#i just...cannot get this idea out of my head | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hyukascampfire · 4 hours ago

Text

let me put my clothes back on and fix my makeup the way this fic just fucked me. on a srs note, first of all, hyukascampfire nation go read this!! right now!! it has been a long time since i’ve found a fic series that i’ve latched on to. there’s something about having a fic that you dedicate to a time in your life, and i fear that it is going to be this one.

beomgyu especially is going to stick with me. his character is raw and brutal, and there’s no way he couldn’t. he tears a spot in your mind so easy that it’s honestly DISGUSTING. i quite literally don’t think i’ll be seeing beomgyu the same for months cause now it’s just cc beomgyu living in my mind and i NEEEEED it. i seriously cannot fucking wait for the rest of this series. not only am i blessed to have serene as a best friend, but to have the author of this fic as a best friend casually is actuLly insane and i lowkey forget how crazy that is what the fuck >.<!!

he’s constantly sort of described as a drug/addictive substance himself. you know that, inherently, he is bad for you. you take him anyway, because the hit you get from it is euphoric. he is euphoric in the dark, dirty sense that only a drug could be. what a brilliant way to characterize a character like him. i honestly could wax poetic about how you write beomgyu and how it’s going to honestly stick with me for a long time for literally forever. are you joking? personifying him as a drug himself?? “He refused to leave your system, no matter how many times you tried to get clean.” and he exactly did. it’s just fucking insane how this fic reads as a hellish battle with a drug addiction and all the highs and lows it drags you through the muck and dirt. it’s poetic in a way that literslly makes me want to take my eyeballs out of my head and throw them like bouncy balls cause WHAT DO YOU MEAN??? i’m literally fucking mad at myself that this isn’t my fic lime jealousy is CONSUMING ME i need to own your brain. :333

it’s like, MC is constantly doing thing that id consider stupid, but i wouldn’t call her a dumb character. she recognizes when she’s doing dumb shit in the same way any addict knows that they’re destroying themselves in their hunt for an ‘eternal high’ that will never come. beomgyu will never be permanent, never be what she wants him to be, but of course she’s still going to chase him. she’s dependent on it. i for real would consider the fact that he still shakes her in the present just a side effect of withdrawals, or even the threat of relapse. OH GOD, seeing him in that interrogation is literally a battle against relapse as she quite literally has to remind herself of what he’s done. no, she is not stupid at all. she’s just fighting a battle that was genuinely never meant for her to win. beomgyu knows that.

He constantly makes me wonder if he’s keeping her at arm’s length to protect her, or if he’s doing it because he doesn’t actually care about her enough to bring her any closer than arm’s length. which is perfect, because that’s exactly the effect that choi beomgyu has. it’s exactly how MC feels. I CANNOT EXPLAIN TO U HOW WELL YOU’VE PUT US IN THEHER SHOES. i literally feel like i’m in the same boat as her. he gives her just enough to make her wonder, and then he recedes, and what are you supposed to think of that? obviously, from the outside looking in, it’s easy to assume that somebody who does that is only toying with you in a purposefully manipulative way. and i do think that if him. but i’m also right in the MC’s head when he offers those fleeting moments that you forget about the frames of the rose-tinted glasses he’s placing on your face, and instead all you can see is the pretty pink shade of everything. these are those ‘highs’ he offers, and that MC is constantly chasing. the idea that things could be good. but isn’t it all the more sour that he could be good and yet isn’t, rather than that he is all bad? it’s all so bittersweet and tragic. beomgyu is a bit slimy, awful, and red flag incarnate. a yet again, in this subtle and nuanced way that i even find hard to describe, he isn’t like the others he surrounds himself with. i mean, he is, but he isn’t. LMAO SEE?? i feel you MC. i really do. i’d let choi beomgyu walk me like a dog too, tho!

AND YOU ARE SO INCREDIBLE AT PORTRAYING AN UNRELIABLE, BIASED NARRATOR. “Maybe Kayla had been wrong about him, after all she didn’t know him, not like you did” this is so real and visceral. such a real thing that those that have been thoroughly manipulated tell themselves. she keeps moving the goalposts, making excuses for things that do not deserve excuses. this is exactly how somebody with that type of seized mindset would behave. not that it’s the correct mindset, because goodness she’s being walked all over, but it is entirely real, and that is the beauty of this fic. it doesn’t pull punches to make it a cute love story. it doesn’t claim to be one. i cannot explain to you how much i appreciate that as another author. am i making a little voodoo doll of you and doing dark magic so that i can steal your thoughts and talent in little increments so that you won’t notice? no… don’t worry abt it…

AND ANOTHER THING! (no dont drag me away to the padded white room yet pls i have more to say) The scene where the gross drunk guy comes up on MC?? i feel like it makes it even less clear whether or not Beomgyu actually cares for her, or to tell whether or not there actually is a better side to him. did he save her just because the dude insinuates that he can have what beomgyu considers his? because he called her a doll, and that’s beomgyu’s name for her? is it a pride/ownership thing, or did he swoop in because he genuinely was worried for her safety? if he was, why would he be bringing her around the slummy types of places that he thrives in, seems to own, knowing what could happen to her? and then eating her out afterward because he got jealous? so he’s actually the king of mixed signals and it is SICK. i’d be as twisted up as MC i swear to god, because what? i literally could not tell you if it’s a ‘don’t touch her because she’s mine, and how dare you think you can touch what is mine’ sort of thing, or a ‘don’t touch her because i won’t let you hurt her’ kinda thing. which i mean, it could be both IDFK??? everything he does is so convoluted and it’s so incredibly stifling. it’s to the point that even finding out which it is becomes intoxicating. like the mystery of it is almost the most addictive part.

and godd, it’s so frustrating when he just knows inherently that, like when he asks if Kai was her boyfriend, it couldn’t be true. cause he knows exactly what he does to her (in the worst way possible). like i just hate when a man KNOWS it’s INSUFFERABLE UGH. it should be that she has the power over him—the detective with sway over the case in which he is being questioned over MURDER. not even to mention the fact that it’s alluded to the idea that she already is completely aware that he has committed murder before. in front of her eyes, nonetheless. she should hold all the power. but being who he is, he maintains the upper hand inherently. it’s frustrating to see, and even more frustrating to experience. to have all that and still know that he owns the space between you. literally what are you supposed to do about that? cuz the moment a man ESPECIALLY one like beomgyu knows that he can walk u like a dog it’s over for you. sorry, you’re cooked. why couldn’t kai be her boyfriend? because beomgyu knows he’s not. THATS SO FUCKING INFURIATING BECAUSE HE’S RIGHT AND HE KNOWS FOR A FACT HE IS.

IM NOT DONE YET! you defy the logical conclusion that because he is the love interest in this fic, he couldn’t have been the murderer. there’s a lot of points where i inherently want to assume that obviously he couldn’t have done something like that, because he is the main love interest in a fanfic. and in most fanfics, that would seem starkly true. it just doesn’t really happen. usually, even if it was proposed that a major character that the whole story is centered around was possibly the murderer, it would be made clear later on that ‘no! they weren’t! they would never, because they were framed!’ or whatever. and then i’m reminded brutally by beomgyu’s own behavior that he quite literally couldve, and that’s who he is. somebody who will draw you in and turn on your initial blinders when you see what kind of man he is, all the way until you’re saying ‘no, he couldn’t.’ but he really, really could. i literslly can not tell if he did it or not, and that’s the effect of him. it’s just substantial and honestly not something i’ve seen and it’s SOOO YUM.

even just the fact that he is so absolutely sure that after all these year’s he’s still got her on a leash is just unbelievable. “Just how deep does your loyalty still run?” And you know what? he isn’t even wrong. STILL! he’s not asking, ‘are you still loyal?’ no. he’s asking, ‘how deep does your loyalty still run?’ because he just fucking knows what effect he has, and how thoroughly he has fucked her up to the point that him saying this is truthfully cruel. how could he love her, if he knows he brings her to these lows, brings her down to his level? but then again, doesn’t it seem like he really does sometimes? it’s not fair. he knows he has her at his back and call like a pet. strings her along fully intentionally, knows that she longs for something more emotional, and still he does. it’s mean. and i can recognize that, and even then i don’t think i can completely cast him away. like, fully aware that maybe he doesn’t really love her, but still hang on to every second of their conversation and interactions, beyond the sex. it’s completely ironic and is exactly what MC struggles with.

i also noticed that, when beomgyu appears, shes always pretending that he’s not there for at least a little bit. staring straight ahead, forcing him to speak or acknowledge her first. it seems like a subconscious thing she does to at least try and gain some semblance of power of him. as if he’s coming to her, and not her to him, even if she knows that’s not the truth at all in reality. cue ‘why’d you only call me when you’re high?’ by the arctic monkeys, thank you!!! because he only calls on her when he desires it it, when he deigns her worthy of his time. and she’ll come almost every time, unless she’s doing this. trying in small, inconsequential ways to try and reclaim any sense of power that she can scramble together, even if it’s completely fabricated and to not effect on somebody as floaty as Beomgyu. how could it hurt him when he literslly doesn’t give a shit already? making a point by intentionally not seeing him for two weeks does not dent him. making him speak first does not dent him. i understand her need to try, though. i’d feel like i was losing my mind if i was dealing with him, too.

throughout this i was just like… visualizing him so viscerally. like, if i could describe him, itd be smoke. dark, toxic to breathe, fleeting but potent, and impossible not to breathe when you’re caught in the middle of the fire. and just the imagery portrayed, the smoke kisses and all that i feel just solidifies it. unfortunately, it is completely sexy and hot and i hate it! “If I was available right now?” He holds out the cigarette for you to take. Eyeing it with disdain for a moment, you decline by shaking your head, “I don’t smoke.” — Beomgyu cocks an eyebrow at you, “You’d be the first to decline.” He studies you for a moment, the corner of his lip twitching into a faint smirk. “But you’re the first of many things, dollface”, he says as he brings the cigarette to his lips. one of my fav passages. LIKE? he’s insane, first of all him smoking is just SEXY i’m sorry it’s fucking HOT and i’d take that right from his lips but ANYWAY, this scene is absolutely a lot more than a quick exchange, and it’s clear that it’s supposed to be more. it almost seems to sum up their entire relationship in a way, but let me stretch before i reach. it just feels so monumental. if i could sum up the fic with one passage, it would be THIS one. the speaking, but really they’re saying something else, the nuance, the symbolism of the smoking and him offering her something that could harm her much in the same way he does with a plethora of other things, and him making little comments and doing little soft things that make her wonder if maybe she is special. ‘but you’re the first of many things, dollface.’ i believe that it’s the small moments like this that keep this relationship going, that keeps MC suspended in enough belief to put herself through what Beomgyu offers her. just art. like i’m fully slobbering over this I EFFING LOVE YOU

ladies, take this as a warning! cast men like this out of your life! demons! all of them! they consume your souls! not all of them are as sexy and worth it as choi beomgyu!

AND LIKE I SAID. he is seriously good at making her accept little to nothing. and i’ll say it again and again. you do it SO realistically. “At least he was here with you and not the woman he’d been feeling up not even an hour prior. You were all that mattered to him. Right? That’s why he’d gone after you, only you.” settling for less and less. it is such a classic example of how somebody who’s not being treated good at all by somebody that they value the attention of will accept less and less over time, filling in the gaps with excuses. it’s so realistic and SO GOOD. first, it’s ’oh, maybe i’m the only girl.’ then, it’s stuff like thsi. ‘it’s okay, because he left her for me.’ GIRL STAND UP. but also, how could you blame her? i mean, obviously she has some blame in this. of course she does. but i understand her completely. yeah, she’s fully cooked… do NOT let that man break your spirit!

and let me say. and i mean, LISTEN TO ME. i have to tell u that DOLLHOUSE THE WEEKND AND LILY ROSE DEPP IS LITERALLY SO PERF AND I NEED U TO HEAR ME ON THAT. it’s so them. just the essence of the song, the lyrics paint SUCH a dynamic and it is so SO SOS O them. please and thank you.

BACK TO BUSINESS. the scene where she’s investigating him and asks him why he did it, but is actually insinuating the man that he killed in the first scene where she was terrified of him without even having to mention it out loud because yeonjun was listening, shows how in tune they are with each other despite it all, and definitely why shes best and worst to be on this case. because he knows exactly how to tug on that leash even if she thought she took it off ten months ago, and yet… quite literally nobody will get a word out of him besides her. AND, i don’t believe that anybody even knows him better than her. it clashes, but i can’t even tell if her being on this case is the best or the worst. i am so enthralled by the murder case, by the way. a lot of fanfic writers are really, really good at writing the romance aspects of a fic. and it’s okay, because a lot of them don’t need to be more than that. but then there’s fics like these that are more than that. this is how i spot the best of the best writers—who can keep A B and C plots all interesting and worth paying attention to, beyond just whether or not they fuck and get together. it takes a higher level of writing skill that i’m not saying EVERYBODY has to have as a fanfic writer, but it is something that i believe set certain fics apart as something just a little different. i love it.

like, just the fact that we watch how she’s changed by beomgyu. he infects her. he actively ruins her, and i can’t even tell if it’s intentional. and the cycle kinda continues, we see her using taehyun to get at beomgyu. it’s not fair, stringing him along as beomgyu does her. it’s the concept of being the victim of a situation and then recycling that pent up toxicity into another person, and now, are you even better than that person at all? do you deserve how they treated you, now? my heart honestly did ache for taehyun cuz that’s bae, but ALSO god he was just so sweet and willing to go out with her, and she drug him right to the same shady places that beomgyu dragged her. it’s almost melancholic seeing her become that, even if in less intense ways. this is the effect of what beomgyu does to her, and again. she is not entirely a victim. doing the same to taehyun was not fair. but reality isn’t fair, is it? and you do reality so SOOOO well. i’m opening my notes app rn thabk you very much. just this toxic, heady kind of consuming relationship where it infects you and corrodes you on the inside. changes who you are for the worse. like a drug. CAUSE HE REALLY IS A DRUG IN THIS FIC AND IM STILL GAGGED OVER THAT.

also, i think i know why cc beomgyu gives you as much pain as tsfawc taehyun gives me. the both of them are very much internal characters. they say and act in ways, and could say anything, but their mind could be something completely else. they watch their words so painstakingly closely that you have to write them that painstakingly closely as well, because every word means something else with them. the do not say what they mean, and when they do, it doesn’t seem like they are because they never do. they’re definitely not the same in any capacity— but they def are both cold in very different ways. beomgyu is the absolute leading force in this fic, coupled with the main storyline: the murder of baekhyun, which he is intrinsically tied to as a suspect. but he also just has such a gravitational force that he makes it that way. it’s clear that his role isn’t actually main love interest like i wrote earlier. the more you learn about him, the more you see that he is a driving, enigmatic force in the story than anything else. something potent and so real that it’s kinda uncomfortable, but certainly too far out of reach to be a love interest. especially toward the end, jumping between the flashbacks where the walls are slowly coming down between them and then to the future where they meet as interrogator and interrogated is both jarring AND it emphasizes that fact. as good as it seems things might’ve been going, choi beomgyu is as choi beomgyu is. believing that he’s something he’s not, projecting your own preconceived notions onto him, whether it’s the idea that he’s nothing but a street rat or even on the flip side that he’s anything more than that, is a mistake. he cannot he pinned down, and to try is to fail. that’s what MC is both slowly learning and forgetting, and it’s why we see them where they are in the future. strangers but not.

it’s so crazy that she and even us as readers are so used to bare minimum that even him relenting something so simple as a contact to text him with feels almost romantic. this is how beomgyu operates. he gives so, so little, knowing that you’re hooked, so that even the littlest something is hard hitting. but he’s sowed such mistrust in us and MC that giving something like this, seemingly letting down walls even just the littlest bit, feels bittersweet. could you even let yourself enjoy it when you fear that it’s for nothing?

it feels like such a journey. in the present, only five days have passed, but because we go through so much in the flashbacks it is SUCHHH a journey. so even though we are discovering so much past, we are still so entirely lost as to the happenings of the present. the dual-plot points and storylines is GENIUS. like i need to give you all your flowers for that. it gets you so invested and, even though you’re finding so much out about their history, all it does is lend you clues to the still enigmatic present. so genuinely set up.

“He appears almost bored, but you knew that he was listening intently, for he had stop playing with his rings.” ALSO PERFECT!! perfect. always acting, feigning nonchalance no matter what. but there’s one person that got close enough to spot the tells. how ironic is it that the one person that he let close enough, no matter how minimally, is now in charge of a case he’s accused of murder in? nevertheless, he had the fact that she is clearly, to everybody including herself, both emotionally resistant to harming him AND wishing he was locked tf away forever. oh it’s messy alright!

and let me say again, just the fact that shes literally watching herself change, becoming someone less like herself and more like him, able to see it but not at all able to stop herself from craving the hit that the drug of him gives her. hurting the people around her, like taehyun, hurting herself, but she will crawl to him on her hands and knees for a fix because she’s allowed him to bring her down to this place. to the drugs and the nasty people and places that choi beomgyu exists in, and it’s lowkey started to take root in her too fhe more she exists in it with him. dragging taehyun to a place like that? using him? is that not a reflection of beomgyu in some ways? and then all of a sudden she’s at this new low, sitting in a sweet little park on a sweet little bench watching him fucking snort drugs off the back of his hand, escaping the sight in a grimy bathroom where the light’s flickering, and even in a moment of reflection like this, it isn’t enough to wake her up.

so, after that whole yap festival, i literally do not want to wrap this reblog up, but i fear it literally will not load to post if i don’t. even though most of this was kinda like coke-induced rambling, i am thoroughly invested in this fic from hereon out. this is now my fic for the year thabk you! serene i love you brain and just OMFG i cannot believe i’ve taken so long to get to this. until the next part..

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 [ every single tape recorded for Criminal Conscience, listed in order ] ⎯ this series is still being updated !

Criminal Conscience contains sexual content. The story portrays substance abuse and acting under the influence as well as both unhealthy and toxic relationships. It also includes other triggering topics such as attempted SA and violence/gore along with character death. ⎯ Each tape is carefully tagged with individual warnings, read them all properly before continuing.

this series has been revamped, find the archived version here.

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ wc, 44.1k and counting ་༘࿐

📼 TAPE 01 ⎯ STAY AWAY FROM CHOI BEOMGYU “Choi Beomgyu”, he says, the smirk on his lips widening as he does. The name fit him, oddly enough. Perhaps it was a bad idea to give out your own name. He was a stranger, not to mention one that Kayla had specifically warned you about not long ago. Still, this man intrigued you beyond limits..

📼 TAPE 02 ⎯ RED LIPSTICK STAINS The red lipstick that you had accidentally brought along this morning, the one you were supposed to get rid of. It had been but a mere coincidence right… The way it had presented itself so nicely on your dresser earlier that day.

📼 TAPE 03 ⎯ TO KNOW IS NOT TO LOVE The cool metal of his rings sting your naked skin as his hands caress your thighs. He’s silent, and for a moment you thought that he might be angry with you. But then his eyes lift to meet yours, they’re dark, but in the pale light of night, they seemed to be almost glowing. “Dollface?” His breath is hot against your legs.

📼 TAPE 04 ⎯ I DON'T SMOKE He holds out the cigarette for you to take. Eyeing it with disdain for a moment, you decline by shaking your head, “I don’t smoke.” — Beomgyu cocks an eyebrow at you, “You’d be the first to decline.” He studies you for a moment, the corner of his lip twitching into a faint smirk. “But you’re the first of many things, dollface”, he says as he brings the cigarette to his lips.

📼 TAPE 05 ⎯ BLOODY BODIES Immediately you jerk back, your gaze flitting down to your now stained fingers. It was fresh. “Oh my god”, is all you can muster and before he has the chance to object your hands are insistently bunching his shirt up above his chest. — “Dollface”, Beomgyu tries, his fingers gently wrapping around your wrists but you merely shrug him off, all too focused on the blood smeared across his skin.

📼 TAPE 06 ⎯ A BUSINESS KIND OF DEAL His lips stretch into a smirk when he notes the increasing frown on your face. “Think of it as a business deal”, he says as he motions toward the two of you. — “Business?” You echo, the confusion in your voice evident. Beomgyu nods, his tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. “No deals go through until both parties consent to it of course.”

📼 TAPE 07 ⎯ $5 FOR A ROLL With slight reluctance you pluck the piece of paper from him, trembling fingers rolling it up and creating a makeshift straw. Beomgyu watches you with an amused smirk, his tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. You don’t say anything when you hand him back the now rolled dollar bill, and he doesn’t either as he takes it from you.

taglist remains open for this series, send me an ask or reply under this post to be added !

header made by talented @heesmiles<3

200 notes · View notes

pineconepie · 10 hours ago

Text

Here's the yanmom drider from a poll I did a while ago!

CHARACTERS: Anevra, Reader/You

WARNINGS/TAGS: Parental yandere, forced infantilization, baby-talk, animal death (hunting), abduction, semi-obedient reader, non-sexual nudity, bathing, escape attempt

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

Your torch flickers weakly, squinting through the darkness and the rain, trying to make sense of your surroundings. It's hard to see anything when you can't even see the sky.

You knew it was a bad idea to be exploring in these dark hours, but you needed to try and find shelter before night fell for real.

Your eyes finally pick out what looks like the entrance to some kind of cave.

Well, not like it's ideal, but at least you won't have to worry about getting any wetter, right? Besides, maybe the storm will calm down, and you'll be able to get home soon.

It's a spacious cave, and all you can hope is there isn't anything horrific to greet you inside. Your boots squeak against the rock floor as you walk carefully deeper in. It's pretty cold in here, though at least it's much drier than outside.

Maybe you can just build yourself a fire and hunker down.

You take out supplies from your backpack and set them on the floor, lying down on a blanket as a makeshift mattress.

Then you take a long drink from your canteen, wiping some of the moisture away from your face with the edge of your sleeve.

Using the little fire left from your torch, you lift it to take in your surroundings more better. There's a lot of large cobwebs stretching throughout the cave... but you know most spiders are generally peaceful creatures, right? As long as you don't provoke one... You look down at your own hands and realize how badly they're shivering.

As you rummage through your backpack to find something else to help warm you up, you hear a skittering noise. But it has to just be the echo of your own movement off the walls, right?

Something is thrown in your general direction, making you yelp. It's the carcass of a dead animal, but you don't get time to analyze what it is, because now you're terrified about who just threw that... or rather, what threw that.

The skittering noise again. And this time, it doesn't sound like an echo at all. Rather, you're almost completely positive it's coming from somewhere in this cave.

Then you see her.

At first, she just happens to look like an extremely tall woman, one with short light brown hair and blue eyes.

But then you see her multitude of legs and realize why this cavern looks so huge.

She looks just as shocked as you probably do. Then she brings her hands to her mouth. "A human!" Her voice sounds surprised, but happy. She almost lunges forward towards you, crawling on several of her long spindly spider legs. She looms over you, examining you. The size comparison between you both makes her seem at least three times taller than you.

You stay frozen in place, staring back at her. This can't be real... You're just exhausted and dehydrated and need some sleep. But that can't happen if your body refuses to allow you to close your eyes for a minute, too paralyzed by fear.

"I cannot believe my luck! After centuries, here I was thinking that I'd never have children to dote upon!" She places her hand to the side of your face. "What a blessing you are!"

Despite everything, your curiosity wins out over your caution. "Why... umm... why aren't you trying to eat me?" You hope that doesn't put ideas into her head.

She looks absolutely appalled. "Why would I ever think about doing such a thing?"

"Well..." You motion towards her extra eight legs and to the dead animal carcass still laying on the cavern floor. "Don't driders eat humans?"

"A lot of them do," she admits, "but not me! I've always adored humans! You all are just so small and cute!" She gently strokes one finger against your cheek. "Look at you! You're so small!" She suddenly stops and pulls away. "Where are my manners? My name is Anevra. Oh! But I suppose humans don't call their mothers by their name typically." She smiles warmly at you. "So how does Mama sound?"

This is ridiculous, you decide. This has to be some kind of twisted dream that your sleeping mind created. Your brain must just love seeing how much it can torment you, even if you aren't conscious.

"Mama?" you echo, feeling unsure of what else you should say.

"It rolls off your tongue nicely." Anevra's voice is smooth and warm, as is the expression on her face.

With how big she is compared to you, you can't tell if she genuinely thinks you're a child or not, but you don't really want to stick around long enough to find out.

The longer she looks at you expectantly, the more pressured you feel to do or say something, anything. Perhaps if you go along with what ever this is, you can find a way to escape, since you have an idea she won't let you leave willingly.

She leans in close, her face only inches away from your own, so close that you can see her eyelashes. "I bet you were scared, all alone outside by yourself in the rain. Don't worry, sweetling, Mama's got you now." She lifts you off the cave floor as easily as picking up a feather, then sets you into the crook of one of her arms. "It'll be okay now," she whispers.

Her extra legs guide your arms around her neck. When she's satisfied that you won't fall, she crawls back into the darkness of the cavern, where there are more cobwebs.

"I know that when I was younger I'd get comfort out of cuddling," she comments softly. "Are human children similar?"

"...miss, I am not a child," you finally say.

Anevra laughs, a soft sound echoing against the walls. "What a funny little thing you are!" She rubs her large hand over your head. "Of course you are. Why else are you so little compared to me, hmm?"

"Because I'm a human, not a drider!" You wiggle against her grasp, which just seems to make her grip harder onto you. Her strong embrace feels like it could snap your bones if she pressed any tighter.

"You are definitely my baby," she continues. "You don't have to be so shy about it."

With nothing else you can do, you decide to try and go along with her delusions. Maybe once she gets comfortable with you, she'll let her guard down, and then you can make a run for it.

It doesn't take very long for you both to reach a chamber deep inside the cavern system, but you weren't really sure how to keep track of time when all you could see were shadows and webs.

There are more spider-like aspects to her dwelling than before, with thick webs covering parts of the walls and ceilings, acting almost like decoration.

"Do humans normally shiver so much?" she murmurs, almost to herself.

You look down at yourself, just now realizing how you can barely keep your body still.

Whether it's from fear or coldness, you can't tell, though. It was colder deeper within the cave system, so that could definitely be a factor. Plus, now that the shock from meeting Anevra is starting to wear off, the chill is sinking in.

"Cold," you reply through chattering teeth.

"You poor thing." She brushes her knuckles against your face. "Let me wrap you up in a cocoon."

Before you can protest, you feel webbing wrap around you as tightly as a blanket. She holds you close to her chest like a precious gemstone. You can hear her heartbeat against your ear. Your struggles just cause you to get wrapped up even further. And she's looking at you with such maternal adoration. How could someone so dangerous seem so sincere?

But eventually you get exhausted from trying to fight, and she hums pleasantly in satisfaction.

"Hush, my little one." She presses a kiss to your forehead. "Now that I have you safely wrapped, you can rest your weary head against me all you'd like." She traces her clawed finger across your cheekbone.

...

When you wake up, everything is quiet, save for the distant sounds of wind howling and rain pouring down into the cavern.

As soon as you can get away from Anevra, the better.

However, when you squirm, you realize you're still wrapped in webbing. Then you start to struggle.

You hear a familiar skittering sound. It echoes off the walls until Anevra shows herself. She tilts her head at you. "Good morning, little one!" she greets enthusiastically. "What are you doing?"

"Can I come out now? I'm no longer cold or tired," you inform her.

"No! Not yet!" she insists. "I still want to hold you!"

How frustrating. But maybe there's something you could try to convince her. If it doesn't work, hopefully she won't react violently towards you.

"I wouldn't be going anywhere else," you promise. "I just wanted to... uhh..." It feels silly to say this next part, but it might just work. "...be able to hug you with my own arms," you finish quietly.

Luckily for you, Anevra reacts exactly as you hoped she would. She covers her mouth with her hands, eyes practically sparkling as she squeals with delight.

"Oh, you're such a darling little thing, you know that? You're simply too precious for this world."

She unravels you from the cocoon with great care, as if you'd break at any second.

But once you're free from the webbing, you try to jump down, only to be pulled into another embrace by her. Though it's less constraining than the webbing was. Still, it doesn't change the fact you're being held against your will by a drider.

You reluctantly wrap your arms around her midsection. You hope that you're being convincing, because all you want to do is get out of here.

She pets the top of your head. "Aren't you just the sweetest baby? Hmm? Mama loves you so, so, so much!" She punctuates each word with a kiss on your forehead.

Now that you think about it, maybe you'll have to plan this more well. After all, you don't know the layout of the big cave well at all, not to mention how dark it is and the fact she is probably fifty times more strong and fast than you are.

Perhaps if you spend some time getting used to the layout of the cave, you'll be more prepared to make your escape.

For now, all you can do is play along. You let her dote and coddle, as annoying as it is, because hopefully in the end, your efforts will prove to be worthwhile.

Anevra sets you on the ground for a minute while she scours the cave, muttering things to herself under her breath.

"What are you doing?" you ask after a little while.

She turns her attention back to you. "Oh, I'm sorry! Here I am ignoring you!" She shakes her head. "Mama is just a bit distracted, that's all. I'm trying to find suitable food for a human. And after that, I'll bathe you by the hot spring. Does that sound okay, sweetling?"

"Hot spring?" you repeat, confused. "There's a hot spring here?"

"Yes," she answers happily. "This cave is much bigger than it looks."

She starts a small fire nearby using logs and sticks, presumably collected from the outside, then places a flat rock on top.

You can hear your stomach grumble as she cooks a slab of something, though you're not quite sure what kind it is. It's still so hard to see in this dim lighting.

Once it's finished cooking, Anevra leans over to you, holding the meat up to your face.

"Can you feed yourself?" she asks gently. "Or do you need Mama to do it for you?"

"I can do it myself." As embarrassing as it is, you don't think you could bare her feeding you like a helpless infant. So you gingerly take the food from her claws and begin to eat. It tastes surprisingly good, but maybe your hunger is causing your tastebuds to favor everything edible. Either way, you're thankful to fill your aching stomach. Despite everything, Anevra's warm smile feels genuine.

After you both finish eating, she offers her hand to help you stand up, which you cautiously accept.

You walk down several long passageways, illuminated by the light of a lantern, until you reach the hot springs. There are steam clouds floating around the water and in the air, making everything moist.

She hums as she begins undressing you. For a moment, you're freezing again, but she grabs you from under your armpits and places you into the hot spring. The warmth hits your bones like an electric shock, and you melt against the rocks.

"Good baby," Anevra murmurs to you.

As she begins washing you, your mind goes numb for a moment. But you're startled back into focus once her fingers comb through your hair and scratch against your scalp.

"So tiny," she marvels aloud, "so small. Fragile and cute." She plants a kiss to your temple. "All mine."

Your body feels numb and limp from the warmth, despite the weirdness of the situation. The water smells faintly of lavender. Your eyes flutter shut, and for a blissful moment, you're asleep and peaceful.

Nothing exists, nothing worries you, and nothing bothers you. Just the sensation of weightlessness, like you're floating in a cloud.

Suddenly, you jolt back awake as you feel Anevra pulling you out of the water. She dries you off with a cloth, then grabs a shirt and shorts. They look handmade, though they're pretty big, enough to hang loosely around your frame.

The two of you settle into silence as she guides you back into the depths of the cavern.

...

Each day begins roughly the same. You wake up, have breakfast, try to get familiar with the layout of the cave, have dinner, and bathe in the hot spring.

Anevra is always watching, her gaze hovering over you, protective yet possessive. Even so, you try your hardest to keep your emotions neutral. You can't risk showing how upset and uncomfortable you are by her behavior.

Your opportunity comes to you one night, as she's sleeping. Most of her legs stretch out, and you lay carefully in the crook of one of her arms. When you sense that her breathing has become steady, you wiggle away slowly.

However, once you free yourself, you see that Anevra hasn't moved at all, still deeply asleep.

Good.

You creep as silently as possible to the entrance of the cavern system. Luckily for you, the sunlight shines down into the opening. Makes sense it'd be daytime, she must be nocturnal.

Everything's fine.

Until it isn't. And that happens the second you step outside and realize you have no idea where the fuck you are. The landscape around you is barren and unfamiliar, and you don't recognize any landmarks. At this point, it seems like your best option would be to retrace your steps, or at least attempt to, before you ended up lost in this place.

You're walking for about half a mile when you finally turn around.

And instantly regret doing so.

There stands Anevra. She's smiling, but you can feel the malice radiating off of her. Her face is eerily blank of expression, aside from the grin plastered on her face, unnaturally wide and bright. As though she were forcing herself to remain cheerful for you.

"Aren't we silly today?" she asks. "Going on an adventure, are we?" Her tone is calm, but you sense danger lurking behind her words.

She doesn't give you a chance to reply before lifting you off the ground and carrying you back inside.

"I'm so very disappointed in you," she says, wrapping you in a layer of thick webbing. "Mama told you many times never to leave the cave, especially by yourself. You disobeyed me." With every word, the webbing grows tighter. "It looks like you need to truly learn how to depend on me before I can trust you again." She cradles your cocooned self like a swaddled infant.

"Please! Let me go!" you exclaim. "I didn't mean to scare you!"

Anevra clicks her tongue disapprovingly. "You didn't listen, sweetling. Mama's not angry, though. You just need to learn how much you need me."

#parental yandere #platonic yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #reader x yandere #you x yandere #gender neutral reader #gn reader #anevra oc #forced infantilization #forced age regression

83 notes · View notes

lvmimis · 2 days ago

Text

cw: vergil x lady in red!reader. mature but no explicit smut.

Your steps are quicker than usual, far too eager for a lady of the night, but you’ve been beckoned, yet again, by your gentleman caller for what is not the first time and hopefully not the last time.

The other women for sale find you a curiosity - those that are thought of as nothing more than property and pleasure have learned to smile but it has never truly reached their eyes, not the way yours does… There’s a sort of envy you can feel accenting the rouge of their cheeks as they watch you glide down the halls.

You were called. You were summoned.

Perhaps you are living a fantasy in your head, one where you are something more than just a warm body to lay on top of for much less than a pretty penny.

But you were called.

You want to see him. You want him to see you.

—

Vergil doesn’t know why he keeps coming back. His coat pocket weighs heavy with coins - your price isn’t high, but there is some extra money he plans to leave with you, something the brothel will not be able to get his hands on, and he has no idea why.

There is one sole thing that brought him here the first time. Not love - no, love is not found in a place like this that deals in depravity and possessiveness and commodification of a human body - but a desire to experience human warmth, something that he has been missing for many, many years, ever since that night.

It is far too easy to shirk off your humanity when you are barely that to begin with, but this one desire, the need to feel warm skin against skin, the beat of someone else's heart through one’s fingertips, is far too stubborn to leave him.

The urge does not leave, and thus he pays for sex.

Although, he only pays for it with you. Just you.

—

You still don’t know his name, but you’d recognize the icy blue eyed-stare, the stern glacial brows, and the ethereally white hair anywhere.

And as such, you’d never forget the gentle way he touches you. Not speaking with his lips, but terribly communicative with the way his tongue laves over your body and through the tenderness and desire in the varied pressure of his palms and fingers. You suspect his disposition is less sweet than serious, but you can hear something in his sighs that is too heavy for one person to bear, something that is only burdensome to a naturally sensitive soul. You’d like to carry some of that weight with him, for him even, but you suspect you may never understand.

He’s younger than he looks despite his pale features but when he’s no longer looking at you, taking you in, you sense the faraway stare of a man that has contemplated too much and found it tiresome. Still, he appears resolute always when he’s done feeling you. He never leaves immediately, but when he rises to his feet it’s with the weary sigh of an old lover who is forced to part.

“Will you tell me your name?” you ask finally, the marks of particularly zealous kisses starting to bloom on your neck, your shoulders, your upper arms, your breasts.

He doesn’t answer, and his back turns.

You should be hurt, but you can tell if he could he would. Instead you smile to yourself.

“I’ll wait for you again tonight. I like you more than my other customers,” you remind him.

He tenses but he says nothing as he slips his pants back on in the dead of night. He glances at you, his lips parting but with nothing coming out to comfort you, to confirm what you feel he holds deep in his chest.

Perhaps you’re only imagining that he’s different from your other johns, but you cannot be that far off, can you?

“Be well.”

A sack of coins is set on the countertop, far more than he’s ever offered you before, and you know automatically to keep it from the madame, to share it amongst the other playthings of the lodge.

He moves to leave, and you can feel something tugging at your chest.

This might be the last time, a sort of parting gift.

“Where are you going?” you ask, tentatively. You don’t expect an answer from him despite the fact that you ask - you are demanding too much and his thoughts are held close to his chest, but god almighty, if only he would tell you.

He smiles for the first time, and it’s a painful, beautiful thing.

And then he is gone.

You will never see him again.

—

Your son is a few days old. A shock of white hair adorns his soft, round features, and his eyes are the same blue, unburdened and clear like sky rather than hard like ice. You caress his face once before you set him at the foot of the church, the sack of gold at his side.

You expect that he’ll have a better fate than you, filled with love and light. You retreat to the dark alleys, a tainted woman of the night.

#vergil x reader #vergil x lady in red!reader #daydreams: dmc #mimi's notes #devil may cry x reader

72 notes · View notes

theocddiaries · 3 days ago

Text

Sonic: We cannot leave unless someone takes us out from the outisde… I think we should talk about the kiss, now that we have so much time. Shadow: Alright. Sonic: Why are you so—? Oh, hold on, did you just say yes? Shadow: No matter what I say, you'll end up talking about what happened all by yourself. Might as well be part of the conversation. Sonic: Alright then. You start. Shadow: You tell me; you’re the one who’s been chasing me around to the point of getting stuck here with me. Sonic: Given our current situation, I’ll be honest: my plan was for you to start, because I have no clue what to say. Shadow: Neither do I. Sonic: You must know something, you were the one who kissed me. Shadow: You kissed me back just fine. Sonic: Okay, what about we do like in those movies where the protagonist is confused? Shadow: A pros and cons list? Sonic: So Amy’s dragged you into her movie marathons too, huh? Shadow: Do you want to fix this or not? Sonic: Yes. Alright, first con: you’re insufferable. [Shadow sighs and pulls out a notebook and pen] Sonic: You carry that around everywhere? [Shadow nods] Sonic: … …You’re writing a lot, huh? Too many pros? [Shadow hums distractedly] Sonic: Are you writing something just now because of what I said?? [Shadow shakes his head] Sonic: Yes, you are! That’s a yes. Is it a con? Stop writing already and talk, damn it! Shadow [writing]: Annoying, persistent, insecure… Done. Want a page? Sonic: No, thanks. Just looking at you gives me ideas. Here, another con: smug. Shadow: Great. And you’re cocky and full of yourself. Sonic: … Shadow: …Are you even listening to me? Sonic: Oh, sorry, those were cons??? [Shadow goes back to writing after an eye-roll]

#incorrect quotes #sth #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #sonadow #sonic prime #sonadow prime #sonic prime sonadow #sonic prime shadow

60 notes · View notes

jollyhunter · 3 days ago

Text

I AM SO SORRY FOR THE LATE REACTION 😭😭😭 Please know that your feedback means so much to me!! I've read it multiple times by now but never found the time to reply - I swear I am so far behind with everything 😭

I absolutely loved the whole concept of this and how you turned the despised writer's block into an actual curse!! Such a genius move!! 🤓👏👏 (And now I hope it's an actual curse I can always blame it on lol)

Ahh I'm so happy you liked the idea! Maybe the boys have some anti-writer's curse tat's or hex bags we could get? 🤔 Would def be worth the pain 😂

Classic Dean! What a pick-up line lol. It's that kindergarten-pulling pigtails for me 😆 (The chipmunk cheeks also had me dead 😆)

Yesss exactly! I always feel like that's one of Dean's 'love language' 😆 (That gif is exactly what I had in mind when writing it!! 😂)

Also, Dean, c'mon! No, you cannot read anything we ever write 🤪

Now here's a little fun fact: I at first intended to go full meta and have reader (or writer?) be part of the canon supernatural fandom and write fanfic smut of Dean and Sam. Dean's reaction would be pricless when he'd find out, wouldn't it? Huh - maybe I'll still do that. *rubs hands*

How he comforted her was so damn sweet! My heart melted how he tried to be understanding and reassuring 😭 And then he turns around, tells her to pay for his food, and behaves so fucking weird! My head was snapping so fast, trying to figure out what's going on, I may have whiplash. Hooked me right in with that one 😂🫶

glad that curveball hit the mark 😂 (does that work as a saying in English? You get my point XD)

Thank you for your Dean contribution! Yess he's a total goofy <33 I'm so happy I get to look through so many sweet gifs now 🤭

I hope I get to continue this sometime hehe, she definitely deserves a happy ending after all! And maybe "she gets to be as dirty as she wants with Dean" 😆

PS: When I found your account, I immediately had to follow you and not just for the Supernatural fandom, but because I loved your blog vibe and your profile pic!! My son's name's Fox, so I was instantly drawn to it lmao 😂🦊🩵

Ohhhh that's such a cool name!!! Tell your son to be proud of it. And that I'm kind jealous lol! 🦊 And thank you so much, Wayne 🥰 ALSO I was shocked to see that I'm not following you? I always thought I did!!!

⋆ ˚｡⋆ PAIRING Dean Winchester x Writer!Reader [Early seasons vibe]

WARNINGS None! No use of Y/N. English isn't my native language.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ SUMMARY You're in your favourite diner; Got your coffee, breakfast, laptop in front of you. It's the perfect time to write. If it wasn't for the writer's block that's holding you in a chokehold. Oh, and the guy who has decided to join you.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ WORDS ~2k

⋆ ˚｡⋆ J/NOTES This silly little thing's dedicated to all my moots who’ve fallen victim to the writer’s curse just like me. I feel you. We can do this!! We can break the curse!!! 🫂

"Doesn’t suit you." A playful voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

"..Huh?" You look up just in time to see a well-worn leather jacket brush past your shoulder.

The booth seat across from you is being filled as a stranger slides in. A plate in one hand and a spoon in the other. Your eyebrows rise, and for a moment you debate whether to tell him the seat is taken.

But the guy doesn’t seem to notice your thoughts. He’s busy ogling his food, humming a curious ‘hm’, and then shoving a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. All the while he continues to mutter, his words now half muffled, "That thing you’re doing to your face."

You blink at him.

He puffs his cheeks, and green eyes travel up to meet yours for the first time, "Makes you look like the Grinch." His lips quirk into a smirk.

What? The audacity.

You stare at him with a deadpan. "Thanks for the compliment." He continues to chew, the flakes crunching. Accompanied by a content hum. Well, at least someone’s enjoying their breakfast.

"Just sayin’." He purses his lips before he eats another spoon, his cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk’s and an eyebrow arched. "What’s up with the face, sweetheart?"

"Uh," - is all you can manage at the moment. Too distracted by the way he's guzzling his yoghurt like a starved caveman. All eyes fluttered closed and nodding to himself like he's thinking ‘Finally, some good fucking food’.

He swallows. Tongue darts out to swipe a white dribble off his upper lip. When his eyes suddenly snap open, you avert yours in record time.

Your gaze's now fixed to the edge of the table, as if it’s the most interesting thing in the room. Left and right of it an elbow each. Of course you had to drop your gaze right between his arms. Well, this is awkward.

"You working on somethin'?" He suddenly asks, and you startle like a deer.

Your lips part - ready to form an answer - when you watch him splotching your notebook in slow-motion.

Your eyebrows twitch in irritation. You dart out a hand, just managing to pull your papers back before another dribble of his slobber taints your notes.

"Dude, please, you’re eating like a barn animal," you comment under your breath, face scrunched up as you wipe the stain off your paperback. Way to lose ones charm.

"But a handsome one," he quickly retorts. And stuffs another spoon into his wide grin, swallows and jerks his chin at your laptop. "So?"

Okay, fine. Maybe he still does have charm.

Your eyes follow his gaze down to the screen facing your way.

"I’m writing," you reply flatly, trying to hold his curious gaze as you tuck your papers safely under your forearms.

His expression flashes into a surprised one. Probably more at your tone than the answer itself.

Granted, the words 'I'm writing' should have come out enthusiastic. They at least used to. But that was before you’d been staring at a white screen for what felt like weeks.

"Uh-huh," he mumbles, the sound muffled as he keeps shovelling the muesli down his hatch. "Can I see?"

"W-what?"

How- how dare he? Only an uncultivated potato would ask that. This is like the biggest No-No. One does not simply ask a writer to look at their unfinished work. You don't stare at a painter when he's still painting. That's like asking someone to strip naked. And then have them bend over.

Let’s ignore the fact that there’s not a single written word to be ashamed of. Because there’s literally not a single written word in your doc.

"No." The answer probably came faster and more obvious of your inner panic than it should have, because to him it clearly translated to; 'Oh? Then I‘ll see it all the more.'

"Aw, c‘mon." His teasing grin spreads, the spoon tipped against his lower lip, "I won‘t judge." Damn it, why does he look kinda adorable?

Before you can react, the guy clamps the spoon between his lips, reaches over the table with his free hand and tilts your laptops screen back down.

"Hey!" you smack his hand away but it‘s too late - his grin just grows and he chuckles.

"Writing, huh? You mean you’ve been staring at a white wall. Here I thought you were writing some spicy stuff about me. What’s all the fuzz about?"

"I- I'm just... I'm still thinking..." you mutter and avoid his gaze behind a hand, trying to cover up the slight tint of embarrassment that’s crept onto your face. "I've got it all in my head, though." You try to back up your answer. He tilts his head back with a chuckle.

"All in your head, huh? For how long this been going?" he quips, lips twitching amused.

"Well, uh-" you begin, then clear your throat with an awkward rub of your neck, "A few days... or... weeks... maybe..." Your voice lowers more with every word until it's reduced to a sheepish whisper.

"Damn, that sucks." he huffs.

"Yeah," you admit with a heavy sigh, "It does."

For a moment you just share a look. His green eyes watch you closely. Calm and curious. But without ever being obtrusive. More like he's trying to get a read on you, like he's patiently waiting, allowing you to open up and reveal more.

And for some reason you find yourself to do just that.

"It's so frustrating, you know?" You begin and slump back in your seat. But he holds your gaze, the entire time and nods subtly, silently telling you to go on. "Like I've got all the ideas in my mind. I can see the scenes play out, can hear the characters talk. But the same moment I try to write it down, it all just-" you break off with a huff, gesturing a 'poof' with your hand.

After a moment, you add another frustrated sigh. "Honestly? Feels like the damn pipeline between my brain and hand's constipated." His eyebrows shoot up at that description.

"You’re an odd one," he laughs and sets the emptied plate down, "I like it."

"Pfff - look who’s talking. Mister 'handsome barn animal'." You jab and can’t help the chuckle. He smirks satisfied at your reaction, tugs at his leather jacket and winks at you.

You roll your eyes with a wide smile.

"What's your name?" You ask curiously.

"Dean," he answers simply. Then leans forward to rest on his forearms, "And you, sweetheart?" Your ears flush when he comes closer and you suddenly become very much aware of the effect his intense gaze has on you.

"I- uh, I'm -" you introduce yourself with your name and he repeats it with a smile, like he's committing it to his memory.

There's a moment of silence again and you don't quite know what to do or say - luckily he seems to have picked up on your inner distress.

"So," he begins, his face suddenly taking an air of - what was it? Business-like? Professional? You couldn't quite tell. "Back to your constipation."

"Yeah? What about it? You interested in my constipation?" You return the question, trying to imitate his new tone.

"Y-yeah," He tries to stay serious, but you both have to bite back a chuckle. "I am, actually."

"What about it?"

"This may sound stupid, but..." He mutters and rubs his forehead like he knows the question that'll follow isn't formulated very well, "Can’t you just, write? You know, like will it through?"

"No- That’s not how it works... it’s - it’s not that damn easy- it's - you don’t understand… It's not that I don't want to. I - I just - ugh-" You groan, face dropped to your hands.

You take a deep breath. The frustration of the past weeks threatening to break down on you again. Your eyes begin to sting and you screw them up in an effort to keep yourself from having a full on breakdown in front of a stranger. In a full diner no less.

"Hey, it’s okay, I believe you." he says with a lower voice now, the flirty attitude gone. The sudden change in his tone and his last words catches you off guard.

Your eyebrows pull together and you lift your head just enough to meet his gaze over the edge of your screen.

The air gets caught in your throat when you notice how close he is. He’s leaned across the table, emerald glinting pools searching your face for a trace of an escaped tear. His hand twitches but he puts it back down before it brushes yours.

"Don’t beat yourself up over it. It’s not your fault, ‘kay?" He murmurs. Almost like he’s sharing a secret with you.

"What? What are you talking about..?" And your voice drops to an equally low level to match his.

"You’re doing great, sweetheart. Trust me." He reassures you but avoids your question with another cheeky smile.

Although this one seems different. Genuine. And soft at the corners.

Unfortunately you don't even get to fully take it in when he's suddenly up on his feet. His eyes dart around the diner before they return to you, a hand raised to ruffle through his dark blond hair.

"I gotta go," he mutters, his attention suddenly drawn down to his empty plate, "Ah - Could you pay for that? You're a real sweetheart."

"..What?"

He doesn't wait for your answer as he slides out of the booth and rounds the table. When he's next to you, he stops for a moment and leans in.

"Oh and - Don't do anything stupid, okay?" He whispers. Then straightens his back again, throws you a flirty wink and a wave of his hand while he bounces off with a casual, "See ya~"

"Uh-" your gaze follows him, perplexed, before you echo his words under your breath, "Yeah... see ya."

You kinda hoped you would.

Wait- why would you do something stupid?

The diner door jingles when Dean steps outside. After a glance left and right, he walks towards a taller guy. He looks not much younger than him, but longer brown hair frames his face, his focus on the papers in his hands.

When their eyes meet, Dean jerks his chin at him and he follows him round the corner and out of sight of the diner.

"And? You got a lead?" He asks hopefully.

"Yep." - He pops the ‘p’ - "Looks like it's our lucky day, Sammy. I think we've got our patient zero." Dean takes charge and heads over to a black Chevy, his hands fidgeting in his pants pockets for the car key.

His bow legs bounce off the concrete floor while Sam follows him with long strides.

"You think it's a deal gone wrong? Or maybe some sort of black magic that backfired?" Sam thinks out loud as he flips through the journal in his hand.

"I don't know man. She seemed pretty clueless to me. Maybe Bobby was right, and it is a curse." The car lock clicks and the trunk flings open.

He pulls out a shotgun and props it up against the lid before he starts rifling through the various contents. "I don't even know what I'm looking for." He sighs.

Sam rubs his temple with equal frustration, "Great. How the hell do we get rid of a writer’s curse?"

"Beats me." Dean huffs, then tosses a set of wooden stakes aside and leans back to run a hand through his hair, "Maybe we should call Bobby again…" - he turns to flash a boyish grin at his brother - "...and then check her out some more?"

Sam groans, "Dude, can you not think with your dick, for two seconds please?"

"What? She’s cute. Plus, she’s got that whole ‘tormented soul’ vibe."

"Seriously? Chances are, that she’s the cause for all of this crazy crap that’s going on in this city."

Dean’s smirk doesn’t falter. Instead he shrugs his shoulders unperturbed, "Let’s pay her a visit tonight. If she turns out to be a witch, we just gank ‘er."

"Dean," Sam scoffs and drags a hand down his face, "I know that look." Dean wiggles his eyebrows.

Sam shakes his head, followed by an incredulous chuckle, "Come on, man, you know you can’t charm your way into her pants. She's clearly not the type for a quick fling. And you’re not exactly Shakespeare."

Dean gets the shotgun out from under the lid and throws it back into the boot. "Oh Sammy, you've still got to learn a lot about women," he says, slamming it shut.

Sam rolls his eyes when his older brother turns to pat him on the shoulder, before he takes off to round the Impala. He pulls the driver's door open while Sam does the same on the opposite side.

"Mark my words, Sammy." He laughs and points a finger gun at him across the roof. "Every girl likes it dirty. Some just don’t show it."

If you reblog, I demand at least one gif of Dean that fits the last line. Cuz I couldn't find the one I was looking for and I want to wake up to many many flirty Dean gifs 😂

Dean Tag List

@aylacavebear @jc-winchester @ambiguous-avery @bettystonewell @lyarr24

@ladysparkles78 @v1v1-3 @maddie0101 @champagnepoets @livya99

@salemslostwitch @supernotnatural2005 @lamentationsofalonelypotato (I'm tagging you for this because our talk partially motivated me to write this ♡ and to post it even though I hate it lmao 😂)

#lovely moots 💕#i <3 your feedback sm

199 notes · View notes

silens-oro · 3 hours ago

Text

Well Enough Alone: Part V

Not all fics have adult content, but this blog is 18+. Andrew "Pope" Cody x f!Reader (nicknamed Hawk) Prologue Cut the Loss (companion piece) Part I Part II Chicken Hawk (companion piece) Part III Part IV Trespassing (companion piece)

Masterlist Pope Cody Playlist

General Synopsis: Things come to light Word Count: 6k Content Warning: typical Animal Kingdom warnings AN: this one is a doozy. I'm constantly kicking my feet giggling at all of the comments and messages y'all have been kind enough to leave. the chapters keep growing larger and larger because I genuinely cannot help myself. ANYWHO, Well Enough Alone was inspired by the song of the same name by Chevelle, if anyone is interested to know. It's the first song on my Pope x Hawk playlist (listed above). please comment & reblog :)

“What are those, baby?” Smurf’s non-reaction to Pope all but slamming the bottle of pills on the counter made his eye visibly twitch. Watch what she gives you, is what Hawk said, and he did just that. When Smurf caught him switching a plate with Deran that night, Smurf switched it with hers and that is when Pope knew Hawk was telling the truth. No one spoke as they ate, but Pope never took his eyes off of Smurf. He followed her into the kitchen after everyone else was done and she was picking up. That is where they were now.

“Don’t play dumb, Smurf. You know exactly what these are.” Smurf sighed, dropping the dirty plate she was washing back into the soapy water of the sink.

“Hawk didn’t tell you about them? I told her it wasn’t a great idea, but she insisted.” Smurf busied herself in the kitchen, and the more nonchalantly she lied to Pope, the more enraged he became. He let it simmer, building like a pressure cooker. He wouldn’t erupt quite yet because he wanted to see how far Smurf would let this play out.

“So this was Hawk’s idea?” Pope asked Smurf. He knew it wasn’t, he wasn't stupid. As much as he wanted to fully blame Hawk out of pure frustration because of a very stupid decision she made at the behest of his mother, Pope knew this wasn’t something she’d be the mastermind of. Smurf nodded, playing dumb.

Pope knew his mother was twisted, and he'd never put it past her to throw Hawk under the bus and reverse over her, but to hear the lies spewing from her mouth only further enraged Pope. Smurf sighed and wiped her hands on a kitchen towel before leaning against the counter to give him her attention.

“She came to me, baby. Told me she was nervous about having you in the house. I merely recommended getting you back on a dose to even things out while you adjusted to life outside of prison. You know how Hawk is -a heart of gold with skewed intentions. Has been her whole life." Smurf said as if this was his lesson to learn. "Didn’t want to make a big deal about it, and I knew it was in your best interest, so I gave her one of your old prescriptions.” Smurf explained softly to placate him. Why was she doing this? Smurf practically pushed him in Hawk's direction the second he stepped foot in the house after his release. Pope didn't like knowing something was going on, but not knowing what it was. "A lapse in judgement on my part."

“I was arrested this morning because I failed my piss test. I was held in South Bay for six hours before they released me, and thank God I was released because it’s a mandatory year sentence for breaking parole, Smurf. I was let off on a warning.” Pope hissed at her, nearing his breaking point.

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. I figured she’d talk to you about it, but it looks like she didn't and you've paid the price for her mistake. Guess you never really know a person, huh?” Smurf rounded the corner and tried to reach out to him so she could pull Pope into a hug, but he stopped her by picking up the bottle and throwing it past her head -just missing her by a hair. It hit a row of glasses she had on one of the many shelves lining the kitchen and the shelf shattered behind her, raining glass in a massive clash as everything tumbled down. Smurf stood there in shock, wide eyes never leaving her eldest son.

“Every pill in that bottle is accounted for, Smurf. Every fucking one. I counted them three goddamn times.” He stalked over to his mother, crowding her against the glass covered counter, and he saw the genuine fear in her eyes. “Hawk didn’t do this.” Pope sneered down at Smurf. “You did. I almost went back to prison because of you.” Baz entered the kitchen, alarmed when he heard the glass shatter from his room and stopped short when he saw the showdown between Pope and Smurf.

“Everything good?” Baz took tentative steps forward in case he needed to separate them.

“No, Baz. Everything is not good.” Pope turned his attention to Baz. “I’m sure you knew about the pills too?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, man.” Baz held his hands up. Another liar, Pope thought. He looked between Baz and Smurf before shaking his head and going outside to get some air.

“What the hell just happened?” Baz looked to Smurf, but her attention was set on the sliding door. A deep frown was set on her lips and her calculating eyes shifted to Baz.

“A minor hiccup. I had hoped he would pull her back in, but she’s pulling him further out, Baz. Talk to her.” It was an order, not a suggestion. “We need him as level headed as he can be for this job or you don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell, baby.”

The radio silence from Pope was killing Hawk. He didn’t come back to the house for a week after he stormed out of the driveway and she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him since. Or if he did come around, Hawk hadn’t seen him. For all she knew, he was in after she went to sleep and out before she woke up. He never left any trace of himself in her home to begin with aside from the things he kept neatly put away in the guest bedroom, as was his way -to take up as little space as possible and to go unnoticed.

Hawk didn’t have the heart to check the spare bedroom to see if his stuff was still in there. Just the thought of it being empty made her keep a wide berth from the door any time she walked past it.

Pope screened her calls and ignored her texts altogether, and Hawk had gotten desperate enough to call Deran to see if he had seen Pope or if he was completely AWOL.

“Yeah, he’s been around.” Deran said awkwardly, eyeing Pope as he nailed the punching bag over and over outside. “I’ll let him know you’re looking for him, Hawk.” But Hawk never heard back from Pope. All she could do was wait for him to reach out, to give her a sign of life, because he knew damn well that Hawk wouldn’t step foot at Smurf’s unless she was summoned -especially when she knew he was pissed at her. And Pope was pissed at Hawk, but he was even more furious with Smurf.

The breeze that picked up outside gave Hawk a small respite from the oppressive end of summer heat. There was one thing that distracted her enough and kept her busy so she didn’t have to think about anything that was now out of her control -her yard. It took years of building and planting, and tedious upkeep, but all of the effort she and J put into it over the years was well worth the sight she got to see every day. Picking weeds wasn’t her favorite task to do, it was something that J -and on occasion Nicky- usually helped her with, but it needed to be done and she desperately needed the distraction.

Hawk pulled a particularly thick weed out of her bed of beautiful, golden California Poppies when she heard the gate to her backyard creak open. Her head snapped in its direction and saw Baz letting himself into the backyard.

“Hey, stranger,” He called out with a wave, “Long time, no see.”

“What do you want, Baz?” She pulled another weed, then settled the soil back into place.

“Just coming over to check on you. Figure you’d know what’s going on with Pope.” He said with a shrug.

“Haven’t seen him in a week, so no.” She grunted as she pulled another out, tossing it onto the growing pile.

“But you know why he’s been gone?”

“Of course I know why he’s been gone, Baz. And I’m sure you do too, so stop fishing for information. If Pope didn’t directly tell you, then he doesn’t want you in his business, and if he doesn’t want you in his business, then you’re not getting anything out of me. I’ve already pissed him off enough for the foreseeable future.”

“I genuinely just wanted to make sure you were alright. He and Smurf duked it out and he uh…”

“I’m fine.” Hawk snapped, yanking another weed from the dirt. Baz sighed, rubbing a hand over this mouth. He was the last person Hawk wanted to discuss any of this with and he was well aware of that fact, but he needed to get her comfortable. Baz squatted down to Hawk’s level, his forearms resting on his thighs while his hands were clasped together.

“He’s only punishing you because he can’t punish Smurf. You know that, right? He knows this was all her, but he can’t do anything about it, so he’s taking it out on you.”

“Listen,” Hawk grunted as she stood up, wiping the dirt from her knees and ripping the work gloves off of her hands and tossing them to the ground next to her gardening tools. Baz followed her up, his knees cracking as he did so. “I don’t need you to play mediator between me and Pope, and I sure as hell don’t need you to come over here to do Smurf’s dirty work for her.” Hawk knew damn well that Baz would never bridge this gap for Pope. This had Smurf’s stench all over it. “Smurf put me in an incredibly shitty position and as far as I’m concerned, if she has anything to say to me about this, she can stop hiding behind you and say it to my fucking face.”

“I understand that you’re angry, I do, but sometimes we have to do things, Hawk. They don’t feel good, but it’s the best for everyone in the long run. And it was best for Pope had you just done it.”

“That’s a load of bullshit, Baz. Pope doesn’t benefit from the meds, you do. Smurf does.” Baz nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Sure, but you better add yourself to that list too, Hawk, because that’s the version of Pope that you’ve been shacking up with. The one that’s coming back is going to be very different from the one that left, let me tell you.”

“You really are a piece of work, you know that, Baz? A real fucking piece of work.”

“Look, I didn’t come here to argue with you. If I wanted to argue with a brick wall, I’d stay home with Cath.”

“Oh yeah, because Cath’s the brick wall between the two of you.” Hawk scoffed, walking past Baz and up to the porch where her water bottle was sitting on the table. Baz took the jab with a bite to his lip so he didn’t respond in a way he would’ve had it been one of his brothers. She’s hurting and cornered, he told himself. “Why are you really here, Baz? To check on me? Fine, you’ve checked on me. I’m alright. I’m okay. You can report back to Smurf that things are all fine and dandy on the western front.” Hawk took a long drink of water and sat down. Baz sat across from her, his back to the sun.

“You’ve distanced yourself from everyone. I know you like your space, but…It doesn’t matter how hard you’ve tried to claw your way out of this family, Chickenhawk, you’ve always found your way back in it. And now that you have…whatever is going on between you and Pope-”

“Considering he’s avoiding me like the fucking plague, there isn’t anything happening between us, Baz. Not anymore. You missed your window of opportunity for whatever bullshit you’re trying to sell me.”

“Pope needs time. He knows who was pulling the strings, Hawk. I think he would’ve killed Smurf if I didn’t step in when I did. For what she did to him, and to you. I know he thought about it. I know he’s still thinking about it and I don’t blame him. I’m just asking you to give him some grace, alright? and be there when he’s ready to come back because he will come back. Whether you know it or not, you’ve been the center of his world since the very first time you went to visit him in Folsom and he’s been chasing your shadow since you were thirteen. You could ask him to strap a bomb to his chest and jump off of a building and he’d do it, Hawk. That’s a power you didn’t even know you had.” Hawk scoffed, shaking her head. “He’s changed for the better since he’s been around you, you know?”

“Did he change or are you now just starting to pay attention to who he is? Because he’s not this horrible monster you and Smurf try to make him out to be with everyone else. He has his quirks, but that’s just being a goddamned human trying to navigate this fucking world.”

“You’re good for him,” Baz sidestepped Hawk’s question. “Knew you would be. It only took about twenty years for both of you to get your heads out of your asses.” He tried to lighten the mood, but Hawk learned very early on to never let her guard down around Baz. He was a sweet talker, an expert at manipulating through conversation and Hawk knew better than to let his words break down the walls of protection she had carefully crafted in her youth when it came to him because if Baz was anything, it was a snake in the grass.

He was groomed by the best, after all.

“Don’t you miss being in the thick of it?” He leaned on the table towards Hawk. “I know you miss the rush, the adrenaline of a successful job, and we were only doing small takes then. Now…we’ve got something big coming up.”

“The things I was involved with before…I’m not going back to that, Baz. I don’t need to. I "got away" with those things because I was a kid and my record was expunged. Unlike you guys, I’ve learned my lesson. I have too much at stake now to risk it on whatever bullshit you guys have cooked up, alright? I don’t want to know what you’re up to because I want zero involvement in it.”

"Can't blame me for reminiscing on the good ol' days." Baz leaned back into the chair.

“Some of us don’t like reminiscing on the good ol’ days, Baz. For some of us, they were bad ol’ days.” She joked, but there wasn't an ounce of humor in her voice.

“There you go again, Hawk. I remember how close we all were. The shit we got into. How Smurf wanted to beat all of our asses when she’d have to bail us out. They were crazy, but they were good.”

“Again, not my recollection of things.”

“You were one of us, Hawk. Always have been. Always will be.”

“No. I was always an outsider, Baz, held at arm’s length even when I was living there. And I still am, on purpose.”

“You made yourself feel like that, Hawk. You separated yourself from us when you didn’t have to. Smurf loved you in her own way, and she still does. You know that.”

“She loved being able to control an impressionable teenager, Baz. Your experience in that house and my experience in that house were two very different things. I was never family, not like you were, because I put up resistance.”

“You used to be.” He pushed. “You were family to Julia.”

“Because I was all she had left.” Hawk’s eyes bore into Baz’s. “Smurf couldn’t manipulate us as well as she could manipulate you and the other boys. Why do you think she let me leave?”

“She let you leave because she knew you’d flourish on your own, and she was right. Look at you now. Got this beautiful house right on a hill overlooking the fucking ocean, an impressive business you built from the ground up. You have properties on the other side of the country. All of it legit. You’ve got it made, Hawk. The only thing you're missing is your family.” It was as earnest as Hawk had ever seen Baz, but she knew it wasn’t genuine. “You did good with the kid -I really mean that. J’s sharper than a knife and he’s got a good head on his shoulders. You did the best with what you had and you did better than any of us ever could. And you did that alone, Hawk. Having Lena has been hard as hell and I have Cath. I couldn’t imagine doing that on my own. You’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for.” Oh he was really trying to butter her up.

“You want something. Or Smurf. Either way, my answer is no.” Hawk got up, grabbed her water, and turned to make her way back into the house, kicking her sandals off at the door. Baz was quick to follow her, sliding the door shut behind him. “I didn’t extend the invitation to come inside.” She said over her shoulder as she washed her hands and arms in the kitchen sink. Baz stood in Hawk’s kitchen with his arms crossed and a thick brow raised. “I’m serious, Baz. Whatever it is, I don’t want any part of it.”

“We need you.” Hawk laughed, loud and sharp, as she dried her hands on a kitchen towel.

“You need me?” She teased, but there was nothing nice or kind about it.

“Yes, we need you, Hawk.”

“Listen, I have the time for this, but I’m not wasting it on you, so if you could please show yourself out,” She motioned to the front door with a wave of her arm as she grabbed a beer from the fridge and padded into the sunken living room to relax. “That means leave, Baz. Get out. Scram. Be gone.” Hawk snapped as she dropped down to the sofa, kicking her bare feet up on the table as she twisted the cap off the bottle of beer. Still, Baz followed her and took a seat on the coffee table next to her feet.

“This job, Hawk…we can’t move forward unless we have you. Just hear me out. That’s all I’m asking.” Baz pleaded.

“How does Pope feel about this?” Hawk asked with a brow raised and a smirk gracing her lips. She knew he’d never agree to this, in any capacity, because Pope knew how she felt about all of it.

“Pope doesn't know.” That might’ve been the first truthful thing he’s said since he stepped foot on Hawk’s property. “You’re not going to be directly involved with the job, but we need you for information pertaining to it.”

“Leave, Baz.”

“You just have to come to Smurf’s for a dinner tonight. You know Paul Belmont?” Hawk’s brows furrowed. What the hell were they doing with Nicky’s dad?

“Moderately.” Hawk glared openly at him.

“But he’s familiar with you? He asked about you by name when I spoke to him last.”

“What the hell are you doing talking to Paul Belmont?”

“You’re either in or you’re out, Hawk. You want to know what we’re doing with Paul Belmont? Give me a yes.”

Hawk turned to Baz as Paul backed the mainly car out of Smurf’s driveway. Her arms were crossed and a heavy frown pulled her features down. “You are beyond stupid if you go through with this, Baz. You’re willing to risk federal prison?”

“No one’s going to go to prison, Hawk.”

“You say that about the bank heist, too?” They held eye contact for a moment before Hawk looked at J. She still didn’t know where he stood with things, and at this point in the night she wanted to just go home and take a hot bath with a glass of wine. Hawk glanced at Smurf, who was watching her every movement. Hawk didn’t say another word to anyone as she got in her own SUV and took off back home.

Another three days passed and Hawk still hadn’t seen nor spoken to Pope. She was reaching the point of acceptance that he was done with her. The trust that was severed was too great to overcome on his end and so she simply let sleeping dogs lie. Her life went back to the way it was before Pope was released from prison, albeit somehow more depressing and isolated than before. She took up more time at the shop, filling orders, helping customers, and propagating new plants that came in so she could build her stock.

Hawk didn’t hear from any of the Cody’s following the dinner with Nicky’s parents, aside from a 'thank you' text from Baz, and she was eternally grateful that they’ve all collectively decided to leave her alone for the time being.

Hawk’s head perked up when she heard her full government name spoken from the other side of the register.

“Detective Yates, this is my partner Detective Fischer.” The woman motioned to the man next to her. Both flashed badges. “We were wondering if you had a few moments to answer some questions?”

“What’s this pertaining to?” Hawk crossed her arms over her chest.

“You know exactly what this is pertaining to.” Yates stated.

“I really don’t.” Hawk shook her head.

“I’d suggest you take a few steps outside with us, unless you want your customers to hear about the crime family you have entangled yourself with.” Yates raised her voice just loud enough to get the attention of the people in the shop.

“We just need to ask a few questions and we’ll be on our way,” Fischer interjected, eyes pleading with his partner to not escalate. “We won’t take much of your time.” Hawk nodded over to Jane without another word and took a few steps outside the shop.

“There better be a damn good reason for you to come into my business and do this horse shit.” Hawk snapped at Yates.

“Janine Cody a good enough reason for you?” Yates asked, hands moving to her hips as she stared Hawk down. “How about Joshua Cody? Catherine Cody? Know them?”

“What about them?” Yates said Hawk’s real name with a shake of her head.

“Joshua's in danger, and so is Catherine.” Tell Hawk something she didn’t already know. “Josh was unofficially in your care for the majority of his life. I know you care about him and he cares about you a great deal. You want him to be safe and as long as he’s with Janine and his uncles, he will never be safe.”

“You have the wrong one, Detective Yates. I’m not interested in anything you have to say.” Hawk turned to go back in the shop, but Yates opened her mouth again.

“You’re also in danger. I don’t know who you think Andrew Cody is, but I can guarantee you that-”

“That what?” Hawk spun around and got in the detective’s face. “Anything you say isn’t anything I haven’t heard before. You’re gonna have to try harder.”

“Catherine can read between the lines, Hawk. She wants to protect her child and I don’t blame her. These men are dangerous, and Janine is worse. I don’t need to tell you that. At some point she will turn on you -he will turn on you- and when that time comes, it’ll be too late for us to help you.” Cath wouldn't be stupid enough to talk to these two idiots, Hawk thought to herself. They had to be bluffing. They probably tried to approach her like they were doing with Hawk and she told them to screw. Cath was smarter than that. “And not to alarm you, Hawk, but we haven’t been able to contact Catherine in nearly two days.”

“I haven’t heard from her. Cath and I aren’t close. I like to keep my distance from any of them.”

“Except when Pope Cody is in your bed.” Yates interjected. “You’re his contact and address for the parole board. We've had an eye on you.”

“Then you know that you've got nothing." Hawk said with a grin. "Would you believe me if I said Pope was the sanest out of all of 'em?”

“How about this for a joke? Do you know what Josh has been up to? Say the last…three weeks or so.” Hawk hadn’t. She hasn’t seen much of J and neither had Smurf. “Figured as much.” Yates felt like she had the upper hand when she saw the look on Hawk’s face. “Or maybe what he’s been up to since he went to live with the Cody’s? He’s been busy, Hawk, I’ll tell you that much.”

“I don’t have time for this.” Hawk shook her head and was about to push the door open when Yates dropped the bombshell. And then another. And one more for good measure.

We need to talk at the house. Just us. Tonight. Hawk’s thumb hovered over the send button before pressing it. A few minutes passed before the three bubbles popped up followed by J’s response.

Be there in 30

“Hey,” J breathed out as he hugged Hawk. She had a very severe look on her face and the atmosphere in the house was dour as he followed her to the kitchen. He took a seat and Hawk leaned back against the counter, watching him as his eyes bounced around the kitchen nervously.

“Some very interesting people came by the shop today, J. Two detectives.” By the look on his face, he knew where this was going. They told him they were going to pay Hawk a visit and they hadn’t been lying. “Against my better judgement, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt, Josh. Is what they told me even remotely true?” Cops lied, that was a given, but the details they told her were too familiar to not be true.

They wanted to shake her and they’d been successful.

“What did they tell you?” Hawk breathed out an incredulous laugh as she dropped her head before looking back at him, crossing her arms over her chest.

“That tells me all I need to know.” She was pissed. Hawk was understanding to a fault and when she was pushed to have an outward response it was for good reason.

“No, what did they tell you, Hawk?”

“That you’ve been talking to them. That you’ve been telling them about what’s been going on with Smurf and your uncles. That you’ve been…Jesus Christ, Josh. Are you screwing your teacher? You are seventeen, Joshua! She is probably thirty! If she wasn’t protected by the police, I’d drag her ass out of that house myself and show her what happens to adults who do shit like this to kids. Because you are still a kid! How could you be so stupid?!”

“I thought-”

“No you didn’t! If you thought, you would’ve never and I mean never have gotten yourself involved with her. And you never would’ve spoken to a cop. Ever! When I told you to come to me for anything, this is what I fucking meant, Josh!”

“I’m sorry, Hawk!” J shouted, standing and running his hands over his face.

“They also told me that you’re involved.”

“What?” He picked his head up to look at Hawk.

“Are you?”

“Hawk-”

“-Are you involved with their jobs?” Hawk pushed, her eyes unrelentingly probing his for the truth. She shook her head, biting her lip in agitation when he didn’t answer. “I told you. I told you not to get in the middle of any of their shit, Joshua. I fucking told you.” Hawk wasn’t the type to reprimand, but it seemed that the Cody’s brought out the worst in her as of recent and J was no exception.

“You think I’d be in the middle of this shit if it was that easy to say no? You have no idea-” J felt like his back was against the wall, cornered like a rat with no where to hide, so he started lashing out.

“-I know exactly what it is like to live in that fucking house! You play stupid and don’t. Get. Involved.” Hawk shouted, slamming her palm on the island. “I lived that nightmare for five years, J, and I came out the other side in spite of it. For five years I lived under Smurf’s thumb, used and manipulated, then let go when I wasn’t of use to her anymore. Because that’s what she does. That’s what they all do.”

“Even Pope?” J knew bringing up whatever was going on between Hawk and Pope was a dirty play, and he regretted saying it the second it left his mouth. J didn’t want to hurt Hawk, not intentionally. She was the single person who has looked out for him since day one on this planet and he had disappointed her in such a catastrophic way that he didn’t think she’d ever forgive him for it. Add on the world of shit he was in with Alexa and those two detectives, and J couldn’t fathom how he was getting himself out of any of it.

“I fucking guess so.” Pope had the balls to give her the silent treatment over a poor decision when he himself was purposefully doing this shit behind her back. He was in for a reckoning the next time they crossed paths and he didn’t even fucking know it.

Hawk should’ve expected the deception from Pope, but it still hurt. Hawk trusted him and maybe she was blinded to think he’d never do something like this to her, but he was a Cody through and through.

With her head tilted down, eyes squeezed shut, she had to know how deep J was in it. “What the hell did they make you do?” Her voice was just above a whisper, the anger gone and replaced with resignation.

“They didn’t make me.” J’s voice was just as low. He didn’t want to say it out loud, to let Hawk know he was no better than the uncles she protected him from his whole life.

“J,” She sighed, turning to pace the kitchen with her hands pushed tightly against her waist.

“That night that the cop died,” He admitted, and there it was, that look that J knew was coming. The look of unbridled devastation cast itself over Hawk’s entire being and tears welled in her eyes.

“You just moved into that fucking house and they already had you doing jobs?!” Her eyes were looking all over the room, her brain putting a timeline together, before her eyes landed back on J. “The night you came home beat up. That’s the night that cop died -you lied to me. You fucking lied to me and you’ve been lying to me, J. What the fuck did you do?” She sounded absolutely gutted.

“I helped Pope get a car that night. The guy we stole it from is the one who,” J motioned up to his face.

“Pope took the fall for it. For both of you. He said you weren’t involved in any of it. Said it straight to my face that you had nothing to do with-” Hawk stopped herself short, shaking her head. She was an idiot. She wanted to believe Pope.

“What the fuck is wrong with the men in this family,” Hawk shouted, storming out of the kitchen. She didn’t know where she was going, but she needed to move or she’d combust. As much as she didn’t want to, Hawk felt her bottom lip wobble and knew tears were following closely behind.

“Hawk,” She put her shaking hand up to stop him from getting closer to her as she returned to the kitchen.

“Don’t. Do not.” Her breathing got heavier. Hawk stopped on the other side of the kitchen, the entire length of the island acting as a barrier between them. “You wanted to do it. After everything, you still wanted to do it.”

“Not initially. You told me to do what I needed to so I didn’t rock the boat. What the hell was I supposed to do with Pope breathing down my neck? You left me to the goddamn wolves!” He knew he was grasping at straws. Just yesterday afternoon he got into Camp Pendleton and got this most recent job rolling. It was a rush he never felt before when he made it out unscathed, but it had been a close call on his way out. He’d never tell any of this to Hawk, but he did actually enjoy himself.

“I-” She had to stop herself with an incredulous laugh. “I left you?! That’s what you think? That I left you?” Her tears finally fell and J felt like the world’s biggest piece of shit. He was angry and frustrated, and Hawk was the only person he could take it out on because she was the only one there who would take it. “No one wins against Janine Cody, Josh. No one. Not me, not you, not Julia, not her fucking sons, not anyone. If I went against her, I would’ve never seen you again. In fact, she’d probably have my body dumped somewhere in the desert for the fucking buzzards to pick at. If Smurf finds out you’ve been talking to the cops, she’s going to kill you, do you understand me? There isn’t a single person on this planet who can save you from her.”

“I fucked up, Hawk. I know I fucked up and I don’t know what to do.”

“You fix this. I don’t know what you need to do, but you got yourself into this and now it's time to grow up, J. This is serious shit. It gets fixed or were both fucking dead.”

Hawk should’ve listened to her gut when she said that she didn’t want to open the doors that came with her involvement with Pope. It wasn't his fault, partially, and Deep down she knew this wouldn’t end well for herself or anyone else involved. Hawk wanted to love him and be loved by him, and she knew he wanted to be loved in return. Deep down Hawk knew loved Pope, but that love didn’t outweigh the hurt that seemed to weigh Hawk down to her mattress as she sat against her headboard with a bottle of wine locked in her grasp. It was the only thing that took the edge off for her, but she hated how sad she felt when she got to the bottom of the bottle.

The anger Hawk felt for Pope had dissipated and in its place the oppressive shadow of self-doubt and misery took form. Was this what her life was destined to be? She drained the last of the bottle and slumped over a bit, letting her weight lean against the plush pillows.

“Another night spent alone in an empty bed, in an empty house and with an empty bottle.” Hawk slurred, messily trying to kick her way under the comforter. Once she was comfortable enough, she flicked the lamp on the bedside table off and was out the second she closed her eyes.

The clock on Pope’s dashboard read 4:16 AM as he sat in his truck in Hawk’s driveway. He felt his heart pound in his chest and the dirt grated under his fingernails as he tried to drown out the thoughts that assaulted his brain after what he just did. Pope’s done a lot of horrible shit in his life -he’s hurt a lot of people, but this…this he would never forgive himself for.

Pope sighed as he got out of the truck, closing the door quietly as he went up the walkway and let himself in. He toed his boots off, setting them neatly on the shelf next to Hawk’s shoes and padded down the hall. Hawk’s door was wide open, catching his attention. She was spread out in her stomach, face smashed into her pillow, and one leg hanging over the side of the mattress. Pope saw the empty bottle on her nightstand and took a few steps into the room.

Pope needed to touch her, to feel her. He needed her warmth and the comfort that he only ever felt when she held him. He didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve her, and if Hawk ever found out about what he just did, he would probably take himself out before he could see the way she’d look at him for the monster he really was.

He silently undressed, save for his boxer briefs, and crawled into Hawk’s bed. He lifted the comforter, pushing it down so he could gently turn Hawk over to lay on her back. She mumbled incoherently and Pope could smell the wine on her breath.

Once Hawk was positioned on her side facing him as Pope needed her to be, he laid his head on her chest and let her arm fall over his waist. Pope’s arms wrapping around her waist to hold her as tightly to him as he could. Hawk’s other arm was placed over Pope’s shoulder and her fingers started to gently twist the curls at the nape of his neck the second they came into contact.

The tears of agony Pope held in finally fell when he felt her hand in his hair. He didn’t move, he didn’t shake. He just laid there and cried, silently pleading for a forgiveness that he knew he’d never receive -especially not from her.

please comment & reblog :)

#pope cody #pope cody x reader #animal kingdom #animal kingdom fanfiction #shawn hatosy #andrew pope cody #andrew pope cody x reader #animal kingdom tnt #andrew cody

65 notes · View notes

muxshwriting · 12 hours ago

Text

doomsday

Charles Leclerc x reader

summary: charles has always put others before himself, but you can’t keep watching as he pushes himself too far for people that don’t even care || warnings: charles is too selfless, injuries, overexertion, yelling, arguments, possible ending of relationship, mentions of death, grief || word count: 1708 || masterlist

Charles was always passionate about his work. Formula One had been the only dream he had ever had. And now he was here, there was nothing he wouldn’t sacrifice to stay.

He’s a very empathetic person, always wanting to help others and putting them ahead of himself on occasion. But more and more, he was sacrificing his own well-being for other people.

It killed you to watch Charles work himself to the bone, pushing during training sessions, attending more media opportunities, staying late for meetings and cutting every corner to brake later than all the other drivers. There was a sinking feeling in your chest every time you got the text of I’ll be home late.

One night, a night he comes home from the factory late, you’re waiting up in the living room for him. He walks through the door, exhaustion written on his face as he runs a hand down it.

He catches your eye and does a double take, not expecting you to still be awake. “Why are you still up?”

“I couldn’t sleep. I never can when you’re not home.” It’s the truth, a fitful rest is the best you can get when the other side of the bed is cold.

He stops in front of you, pulling you to your feet.

“I’ll always love you Charles. But I cannot keep watching you do this to yourself.”

“Baby, I’m sorry.”

“The late nights don’t do anyone any good.” You try to reason.

“I’m trying.” He replies. “I’m trying but when I can give more, I do. If I can, why wouldn’t I?”

Slowly you shake your head. “You can’t give them everything and leave nothing for yourself. I won’t stay to see you do this.”

“I’m not giving them everything. I have you, don’t I? I’ve got to save something for my love.” He’s trying to sweet talk you and it’s working before you can think to the opposite.

“I love you.” You whisper to him. “But something’s got to change Charles. You can’t keep living like this.”

“I love you too and I won’t. I promise.”

You go to bed with the slimming hope that something will change for the better. But that slim chance only gets smaller as the weeks wane on and nothing seems to change. You have no idea if Charles even tried to cut back his work because it seemed like he didn’t even attempt to. You feel like you’re tearing your hair out just trying to make him understand what you’re seeing. He’s going to kill himself if he keeps going at the rate he is now. And you refuse to stick around and watch him.

“Charles!” The argument started from nothing, a slip of words that sent the annoyance of the past months straight to your soul. “I’m going to be planning a fucking funeral. Tell me, what flowers do you want to be buried with?” You’re making no sense as the argument only gets worse, coming out shouting.

Charles frowns, standing to meet you. “What are you even talking about right now?”

“You’re going to die!” The words tumble out as you yell, trying to get him to understand what you’re seeing. “You’re going to die in that stupid car trying to satisfy everybody else.”

Charles stares at you in silence. There’s no way to know what he’s thinking and you’re not sure you want to know. “…I can’t do this. Not now. I have-“

“You have work, right?” You finish his sentence for him, but your tone is defeated. There doesn’t seem to be a way to get through to him, there is no fighting this.

The anger inside him returns and something snaps. “You have no idea what kind of pressure I am under. I am representing a team that has traditions nothing can change. There are practically two countries breathing down my neck at all times, watching my every move. I have millions of fans critiquing me at every step and you want me to put myself first? I am a man, who is part of something so much bigger than myself. If I put myself first I would never have got into a kart. Is this what you want me to say?”

“Yes!” You shout back to him. “Please! Be angry. Be angry with me if you have to. Anything is better than the monotony you come home with, the lack of anything because it’s all been leached from you.”

“I can’t keep doing this.” He confesses.

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

“No.” He says sternly. “This-“ He motions between the two of you. “This isn’t working. I can’t keep coming home to someone who doesn’t understand my life.”

Part of you knew this was coming, part of you thought you should’ve done it months ago. But mostly, you just knew it was inevitable. But hey, at least you wouldn’t have to plan the funeral now. Maybe Charles would find time in between all his work to plan his own.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

You’re defeated. There’s no fight left. “You’re right. This is working. I’ll be back for my things tomorrow. Goodbye Charles.”

He frowns at you, surprised you aren’t fighting him back anymore. He was expecting you to keep pushing him to be better, to be there for you instead of for his team and his work. For him, there was no choice, there couldn’t be. But for you, once, he would have thrown everything away. “This is it.”

You have no words for him, turning to grab the most important things and leaving for a friends house. You have to move on from him now, it’s all over.

You’ve casted Charles out of your mind and rather hypocritically, thrown yourself back into your work. But it’s never to a point where you have nothing left for yourself, you have to protect what you have. It’s been months, you don’t follow anything from that world anymore.

Then the phone rings.

“Hello? Is this Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Yes… this is she.” You tentatively answer. It’s a voice you don’t recognise from an unknown number.

“Hello. I’m calling from the Princess Grace Hospital. You’re listed as the emergency contact for Charles Leclerc. Are you available to talk right now?”

You’ve risen from your couch, slightly in shock as you move to get ready to leave. “Yes. What’s going on?”

“Can you come to the hospital? Mr Leclerc was brought in unconscious and we’re still carrying out tests and examinations.”

“Yes. Yes. I can be there in fifteen minutes?” You’re mind stutters out a response as you’re already moving out of the front door. Why did Charles still have you saved as his emergency contact? Wa she alright? What the hell had happened?

When you reach the hospital desk, they lead you up to Charles’ room and leave you at the door. He was brought in after a neighbour heard a crash. He was unconscious, probably dehydrated and over exerted himself to the point of exhaustion. They were doing the best they could for him, mainly just letting his rest and recuperate his strength.

Silently, you slip into the room and take a seat by his bedside, interlacing your fingers with his. His skin is colder than you remember, more lines etched on his forehead and a dullness there never was before. He looks tired, really tired. You fire up your phone again, pulling up Pascale’s number.

“Pascale?”

“Y/N? Is everything alright?”

“The hospital called me. Charles fainted at home, he got brought in but he’s okay, i think. I was listed as his emergency contact but I can send you all the details for where he is.”

“What- Oh my- Please, yes please. He’s okay?”

“He’s just resting. I’m with him now, he’s asleep but he seems alright. The doctor said he didn’t hit his head when he fell, so there shouldn’t be any be anything to worry about.”

“I’m on my way.”

As soon as you hang up the call, Charles’ fingers twitch within yours. Your attention snaps to him as the almost permanent frown returns to his brows.

“Charles?”

Charles thinks he must be dreaming. You’re hear, beside him. Except you left him, he’s lost count of how many months ago it was. But you left and he’d regretted it ever since. Perhaps he could stay in this blissful moment for a while, imagining you were still here, that you were actually beside him.

“Charles? Are you awake?”

He groans. His brain really wanted to make it seem real today.

“How are you feeling?”

His eyes blink open, squinting in the harsh light. There’s a weight on one of his hands and two smells, one clinical and one oddly familiar. His head turns to the side and a mirage of you appears. You’re covered in a concerned look, staring down at him as he comes back to reality. You are there, truly. But he’s not at home. He’s at the hospital.

You’re holding out a glass of water to him, helping him sit upright as his senses return. He misses the weight of your hands in his and he’s half tempted to reach back for it again. “How are you feeling?”

“You’re here.” His voice sounds dead, even to him, and it isn’t just because he just woke up.

“I’m your emergency contact…” You explain. “I called your mother, she’s on her way.”

Charles sighs, a heavy sigh that someone would give after 50 years of work, when your back aches and your muscles shake. Why is he so tired? It’s the first time he’s stopped in months, is it all finally catching up to him?

“You were right.” He whispers the confession, like it’s a secret but anyone with eyes could see it. “You were always right.”

You smile, a sad sort of smile because you knew you were. It just took him landing in the hospital for him to agree. Despite the admission, you know that he doesn’t understand the extent of the truth. He’s too selfless, feels to much guilt to give himself what he truly needs. You got out while you could, but at least you mourned someone who was alive, rather than someone that was dead.

feel free to send in a request xx

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula one #muxsh #muxshwriting

50 notes · View notes

creatingblackcharacters · 11 hours ago

Note

a while back I sent an ill-worded question about words used to describe skin complexion, so first of all I want to apologise for how my question came across for you, the anger it caused and how careless my phrasing was in that regard. it wasn't meant that way, but of course that doesn't negate the damage done.

I've been debating what to say and how to say it, or whether I should just silently take the L on this miscommunication and leave it, because ultimately that's what it was. I never meant "how does that read to you?" as in "do you understand the words I'm saying?", frankly it didn't even cross my mind that questioning your understanding could be a genuine meaning of my words. that's just not how it makes sense to me.

I meant "how does that read to you?" as in "how does the very use of those words rooted in whiteness come across to Black readers when applied to Black characters by white writers?" (could I have been this clear? sure, if it had occurred to me that my question without explaining my full entire thought process could be terribly misconstrued, but it obviously did not occur to me, so here we are. all I can do is try to do better and I am trying).

though I have to say, in its own way the reply you gave me sheds light on that question. the descriptors all carry an implication, regardless of whether we have begrudging understanding that we all know what they are supposed to convey because we've learned the words and their meanings and we can use our brains to decipher context. though it brings me back to my question - how does the use of descriptors like paling/blanching/deathly pallor/etc. come across for Black readers? does it show the intent and care this blog is advocating for? is that something that takes people out of the story, especially when they know the author is white? and in that sense, are physiological descriptions preferred then?

ideally writers would make the effort to actually figure out how to describe Black complexion, it seems like the natural conclusion here, but for me it also begs the question what the equivalent to "to pale" for dark skin is, and I suspect the answer is there is none. (or maybe I just haven't encountered it?)

ultimately, I want to use my words in a good way, in a way that makes my Black readers feel seen, but language is hard and I don't always get it right. (as we have seen). and I'm thinking a step towards writing better descriptions is actually knowing what Black readers take away from them, and the impressions they leave behind. sure, there are probably some potentially obvious answers to this, but I think there is merit in making sure that we're all on the same page with things like this. after all we can't look into each other's heads.

I hope I was able to word my thoughts better this time around.

If this is about the ask that I think it is, I appreciate your apology. I wasn't actually mad at you, and i apologize if my response seemed to be at you directly. I was moreso upset at the ease of the use of your language and the concept itself. It's incredibly dehumanizing to realize just how many people don't seem to think that Black people function as human beings, or that we are somehow so innately different from white bodies that extrapolations cannot be made, or that it's not even something that y'all have to consider at all. Like, the idea that Black people change skin colors as if we're chameleons in pain or sickness is far too common and comfortable an idea with the implication that is "I dont think you are human like me". It makes me sad.

I'll let others answer your question, this time, though, so you can get that feedback!

#creatingblackcharacters

42 notes · View notes

afalconfromalcyoneus · 2 days ago

Text

"sei que vou perder um grande amor e um bom amigo." — eu sem você by lilian

"I know I'll lose a great brother and a good friend"

***note: "grande amor" in the og lyrics means "great love", but I changed it to fit better w/ Ashfur and Ferncloud <3

Extra below to hear my yapping ↓

OK. I've been seeing this trend recently using this song (Em Sem Você). It's a Portuguese song that I'm like 99% sure has to do with a break up and how you handle that & not knowing how you'll act/be like when you're out of the relationship. HOWEVER. I also saw this song used with Squrrielflight & Leafpool, so I was like "oh my God this song is Ivypool & Dovewing" but then, a greater idea floated in my head...."This is Ashfur and Ferncloud." They're my favorite characters OKAY leave me alone 😭.

Anyway. I think some of the lyrics represent them pretty well. Mostly with my own versions of them bc, as usual, my imagination is bigger than what the actual series gives us.

I'm just giving the English translations here bc that's easier:

"You're going away with my dreams

You'll forget me, you'll forget me

I know I'll lose a true love and a good friend

I'm wondering what I'll become

Without you, without you"

Under my interpretation of course. This is about how, after Ashfur died (aka was murdered by Hollyleaf) a part of Ferncloud died. Even after she learned about how much of a GIANT incel he was, she feels deeply upset by his lose. She wonders how she'll live without her twin brother (that's also a thing I hc btw,,) or who she'll become. Will she be different? It feels like a hole is missing from her soul.

She's afraid that up in Starclan, Ashfur will forget her. Maybe she even suspects she wasn't that important to Ashfur at all, due to his actions he committed in life that she learned about.

"Will he forget I ever existed? Will my face in his mind disappear into the winds of Starclan? Because was I really that important to him?"

(skipping a few lyrics)

"This night, I've barely slept thinking about

How happy we were and what I'll become

Without you"

Ferncloud can't sleep days, week, months after Ashfur was murdered. Although she's a Perma Queen, Ashfur would sleep next to her still (mostly so he could get away from Squrrielflight in the Warriors den, this is also headcanon btw this didn't happen canonically). Ferncloud didn't fully see how unhappy Ashfur was in life, she was happy but he wasn't. She's become so depressed and lonely, even if she has friends, without her twin.

"I know there's no point in even thinking about what happened

It's not going to be easy because I know I'll suffer

Without you"

Everyone knows Ashfur got murdered at this point, especially they know it was Hollyleaf because she spilled it out during a Gathering (I'm pretty sure?). Ferncloud doesn't want to think about "what happened" (Ashfur's murder, plus Hollyleaf's outburst and death as well as confessing to murdering Ashfur). She's angry at Hollyleaf, but since Hollyleaf is (presumably) dead she has nobody but herself to direct that anger towards. At the same time she thinks about the cats he hurt, Squrrielflight, Lionblaze, Jayfeather, Hollyleaf, maybe even other cats...she cannot stay truly mad at Hollyleaf. But she can stay mad at herself.

There's no point in thinking about what happened because she doesn't even want to think about it. She's suffering without Ashfur next to her...but he hurt so many cats and she feels that guilt of wishing he was still alive.

Ok bye.

#wc #wc fanart #warrior cats fanart #warrior cats #wc headcanon #sketch #idk i might animate this but im horrible w/ lipsync #ashfur #ferncloud #doomed siblings #BRUH #ok i know this song is about like a lover forgetting u #but besides that the song fits their dynamic in my head #my art

45 notes · View notes

yukkuo · 2 days ago

Note

ROVER NATION IS STARVED AND WE ARE ON OUR KNEES FOR ANY SORT OF FOOD TO GET BY 😭😭😭 I loved your rover hcs post oh my goodness!! so I couldn't help but come by to drop some ingredients 💛💛

MRover whose resting face is just that damn puppy eyes like his (spiritual) tail is perpetually wagging...Reader cannot handle it with their cuteness aggression and ends up pinching the hell out of his cheeks!! Rover playfully fights back but you know, Lord Arbiter and Mighty Godkiller and all that he easily overpowers them without thinking...which ends in them mutually flustered 🤯🤯🤯

- RoverGlazer9000 💚

𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

Probably OOC, swearing, Rover being a cutie, misspelling,

HELLO SORRY THIS IS A BIT LATE I HAD STATE EXAMS BUT I'M FREE NOW‼️ Also this is so cute. I'M SORRY ROVERGLAZER9000 IF I GOT THIS WRONG OR IF IT'S NOT TO YOUR LIKING I TRIED MY BEST💔. Also real cause why is there no Rover things.

Travelling with Rover was certainly something. Adventurous for sure, caught up with a lot of drama and finding out who he was and what he did. Because what do you mean you're standing besides the founder of Jinzhou and the Black shores??

Anyways, it was difficult to believe such things. Especially when you as much as glance at him, a hard task to keep a straight face when serious situations happen. All because he was too..

Cute.

And it's not only because you had happen to like him, he was generally pleasing to the eye (in your opinion at least), but it was the way his resting face made you notice that he resembled a puppy, especially around you. Sometimes you even think he actually had a tail when you ask him for something, you have to blink a few times or subtly pinch yourself just to make sure you weren't going crazy. Most of the time, he would stare at nothing in particular while he was thinking, his face would relax and it would simply remind you of a puppy.

Maybe it was just your imagination.

So here you are, walking besides him while you stare at his face. He was staring ahead, yet he couldn't help but start to wonder why you were suddenly so fixated on him. Was there something on his face? Did you want him to start a conversation?

It wasn't until you got a hold of his arm, making him stop on his tracks while he turned his head towards you. Your blank face beginning to make him nervous, were you made at him?

"Whats wrong?" He asked as he maintaining his composure. And for a moment, for a split moment you swear you saw dog ears droop and the tail stop wagging.

"..." You only stared and stared, it was starting to get him more nervous than he already was.

"[Name]..?"

You let go of his arm, reaching up to his face with both hands before cupping his cheeks. His eyes widened, and right there and then the tail starting wagging fast as his ears perked up.

His puppy demeanor had enchanted you.

"You're so.." You inhaled, eyebrows furrowed. He was so cute. Why was he like this? It was like he had bewitched you so you could look at him and never tear your gaze away. Like it was intentional to have your attention and eyes on him at all times.

"Wha— ACK!" He flinched when you suddenly started pinching his cheeks. Stretching them and making them sting by the slightest, his hands coming up to your wrists and holding them. But he didn't tear them away, not yet at least.

"[Namesh]! T-that shtings!" He whined, he had absolutely no idea what had gotten into you. You started moving his head around gently, your eyebrows pressed together as your lips pressed into a thin line.

"You're too cute!! WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO BE SO CUTE??!" You began to shake him a bit, a difficult task to keep your emotions in check as you try not to make him fall.

You suddenly feel hands hold your cheeks, stretching them the same as you were to Rover. He managed to grab yours in return, now both of you pinching each others cheeks.

"Letsh go.."

"Yoh firsht.."

A battle amongst you both in who would release first. You? Or the all mighty God killer.

It didn't take long before you both started shaking each other, not enough to make you both stumble to the ground, but enough to show the gentle aggression held for one another.

It didn't take long before Rover was the one who managed to get control of the situation, coming out as the victory when you let go of his cheeks and held onto his wrists.

"Yeah doesn't feel so good now does it??" With a playful jest, it was his turn to shake you a bit. His cheeks still stung but he ignored it, a small price to pay.

"I'm shorrryy.." You whined, eyes shut as he tormented you cheeks while he chuckled.

It didn't take long before his cuteness aggression died down (not really) and he let go of your face. You held your face with a small whimper as it stung, consequences of your actions.

"Sorry sorry.. I didn't hurt you right?" He chuckled again.

"Other than pulling on my cheeks as if they were made out of rubber.. No, you did not" you sent a playful glare at his direction.

"A haha..." He cleared his throat, avoiding you gaze as his cheeks were coated in a red. Most likely from pinching them, you think.

"So.. You think I'm cute?" He asked.

"Huh?" You blinker once, twice. Then it hit.

Oh my God you called him cute without even thinking. You might as well as kill yourself on the spot got letting that slip out.

"Uhm.. I mean, y-yeah? Well you're cute in general— I'M NOT SAYING YOU'RE NOT TO ME!! I just meant it like— everyone finds you cute yeah!—"

"I'm glad."

"..?" You blinked, looking at him as his head was turned away from you. Yet you managed to spot the bright red color on his ears. Now it was your turn to be red, face and all, head to toes.

#wuthering waves #wuwa #wuwa rover #rover x reader #wuwa x you #wuwa x reader #wuwa x y/n

22 notes · View notes

thosegayoldmen · 1 day ago

Text

Help me decide which fic to focus on!

My indecisive ass cannot decide which fic to focus on, but I wanna focus on at least one till its finished. Recruiting the hivemind to help me decide! Vote for whichever you wanna see from me next, or whichever sounds most interesting to you 😁

I'll post more info about each option below the read more, plus previously shared snippet links so you can get more of a vibe! Thanks in advance ya'll! 😘

1, 2, 3, 4,

5+1

5 times Loki was okay being just a friend, and one time he wasn't. This one's gonna be a multichapter fic and, pre warning, I will be writing it ALL before I start posting any of it, cause I know what I'm like and I know I'll go too long between chapters otherwise 😅

A HR Nightmare - NSFW

The one where Mobius tries very hard to follow the rules and Loki is a menace. I'm using my bingo prompts for this, 'You're the reason we have a guidebook' and 'S1 sex in Ravonna's office' 🤭

Mobius gets a tattoo - NSFW

Exactly what it says on the tin, though I won't spoil the tattoo 😉 I haven't shared any of this (yet) but maybe I will for SSS

1, 2, 3,

Controlled Decent - NSFW

My sequel fic to 'Elevated Tensions' 😊

The one where Mobius gets stabbed - NSFW

I've shared a bit of this one too. Heads up, this is NOT a whump fic and very much a spicy fic…I'll let ya'll piece that one together 😈

1, 2, 3,

Shadowplay at the premiere - NSFW

This was the fic that started as a drabble for wanksmas and got wayyy out of hand. I currently have 3k written for it and its still growing so… 🙈

1, 2, 3,

Wound care/Patching Up - NSFW(ish?)

This is some classic wound care after a mission type fic, a little bit of angst, and a little bit of spice towards the end (though nothing explicit I don't think...😅)

Focus on bed prompts

I have five prompts requested currently, and all but one have loose ideas attached to them. So if you'd prefer I focus on these for now, you know which to pick 😜

I'm gonna tag my usuals just so they can see! But anyone who see's this is welcome to vote! 😁

@elodiah @blackbirdofasgard @insomniaflarrow @kcscribbler @distracteddream

@boredintjqueen @lokimobius @devilbearingtrouuble @loki-is-my-kink-awakening

@mobiusismycomfortcharacter @wolfpup026 @ghoulehhh @mythical-magik @kusakichan15

@natendo-art @impulsemuppet @mirilyawrites @scifikimmi @silentxsymphony

@ilaytrapsfortroubadours @rin-love-is-green @stillwanderingflame @andthekitchensinkao3 @insert-witty-user-name-here

@dreamycloud @mobius-m-mobius @dilfmobius @lgwilt @tealdropsworld @cha-melodius

#Poll #WIPs #Snippet #Lokius #Loki X Mobius #Mobius X Loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #mobius m mobius #Loki Series #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Fic #Writing #My Writing #Fox's Writing #Help me yall #I'm a mess

20 notes · View notes

usagi-chwan · 2 days ago

Text

Yes, I do (BSD x Reader) 2/2

🌸 Characters in this chapter: Dazai (Mafia), Ango, Ranpo and Yosano.

🌸 Spoils: knowing the background of Dazai, Ango and Yosano is more than recommended to be able to read their parts.

Ango's part is rather long, for which I clearly got carried away...

This was a request from someone else on AO3, who wanted me to add a second part to the existing one on the characters' marriages with the reader. I hope I have fulfilled my part of the bargain properly, and I wish you an excellent read! ^^

Dazai (Mafia)

- If there is one thing he could never have foreseen, despite all his talents, it was his own wedding.

- Of all the people who nearly spit out their drinks when they heard the news, the most surprised was Dazai himself. But he could not resist the idea of living with you for the rest of his life, so... Ta-da, a wedding!

- Even though he had mountains of money at the time, he really only needed three people for this very special day (not counting the one who is marrying you, otherwise it is going to be complicated): Ango, Oda, and of course... You. The star of the show, the person who gave him a new perspective on life.

- And the person who gave him the strength to continue fighting against his existence that was so unkind to him, until he met you.

- He also taunted Chuuya for many weeks, telling him that, of course, animals were not invited to his wedding...

- And Chuuya would simply reply that he did not necessarily want to see such a thing (and that he was not an animal, for God's sake!!). But our Chuchu cannot ignore the fact that, deep down inside, somewhere, jealousy is showing its face at hearing that this idiot Dazai is getting married...

- Nor can he deny that he feels an immense wave of pity and compassion towards you.

Ango

- With his mania for doing things in the right order, it was hardly surprising that, a few years after you had become a couple, you ended up getting married.

- For him, marriage has a very important and symbolic meaning: it is the consecration of your life as a couple, the irrefutable proof that you want to continue living together.

- So, when he proposed to you, he was in the grip of immeasurable anguish... But when you said yes, he could have sworn he heard angels singing.

- If he is still in the Mafia, his wedding is obviously taking place with his two closest friends, as well as your friends and family, in simple intimacy.

- If he is gone back to work for the government, it is your relatives and his colleagues, especially his boss, who are obviously invited.

- Without knowing whether or not he will come, Ango has also sent an invitation to Dazai, his heart full of hope but also of remorse for the past, which will not leave him alone even for such an event.

- During the ceremony, you notice that Ango is sometimes slightly distracted, with a glint of sadness in his eyes... At first, you do not really understand why; is he regretting all this?

- But when you look at him a little more closely, you can deduce that he seems to be looking for someone among the crowd of guests... He soon returns to the present moment, however, and enjoys it as much as he can; without, it seems, having succeeded in finding the person he is looking for.

- It is only when you are dancing that your now-husband's gaze settles on something, before he widens his eyes, followed by a gentle smile and a relieved expression.

- And, as you spin in time with the music, and find yourself face to face with that person Ango had been staring at just seconds before... You cannot help but smile in turn, as you discover a brown-haired young man, covered in bandages and dressed in a black and white suit, leaning against a wall with a glass in his hand, standing in the background.

- His head is bowed, masking his eyes; but you can still make out the slight smile he is wearing, reminiscent of Ango's a few moments earlier.

- A smile that is in no way inferior to the one he gives you as the music ends, followed almost immediately by a tender kiss he places on your lips, thanking you with all his being for choosing to share his life and his future.

Ranpo

- A wedding? Honestly, he does not really see the point: you do not need that to show you love each other, do you?

- So, obviously, the idea will not come from him, but from you. He is not against it, far from it! If it pleases you, then he will gladly play along.

- But his opinion on marriage changes dramatically when he realizes something crucial.

- It is simply a golden opportunity, giving him a ready-made, unstoppable excuse to eat sweets at will. And Ranpo has no intention of skimping on quantity, or he would not be called Ranpo.

- In fact, a good quarter of your wedding budget was spent on cakes and sweets.

- The wedding itself went off extremely well; prepared largely by you and your colleagues (notably Kunikida, for better or worse...), but also by Ranpo, who help you with enthusiasm.

- The only downside, at the end of the evening: Ranpo is slumped over in a chair, moaning in pain... Alcohol? No, far from it...! It is simply the beginnings of the aftermath of eating too much, which can only mean one thing: great wedding night ahead!

Yosano

- Everything is going wonderfully well, in a serene and happy atmosphere, full of laughter and joy.

- Not to mention, of course, the moment when Yosano almost rips the head off a certain young man covered in bandages, who had the extremely good (bad) idea of coming to the wedding intoxicated with hallucinogenic mushrooms.

- Despite this little incident, everything goes on as if in a dream... A feeling all the more exacerbated when the cake is brought in.

- At that moment, Yosano cannot hold back an expression of intense surprise; the cake is indeed covered with magnificent and detailed butterflies made of sugar, a true work of art for anyone with even the slightest appreciation of beautiful things.

- She did not order the cake, so she is not responsible for this... When she turns her head towards you, still speechless, the smile you give her says it all: you know her past, the importance of the butterfly that permanently adorns her hair, what her ability looks like...

- In a word, you know how crucial butterflies are in her life. And to see that you have moved heaven and earth to find someone capable of creating these magnificent sugar butterflies, to see that you have willingly incorporated an extra part of her, that she did not even remember possessing, into this true symbol of marriage...

- Finally, her last barriers were overcome, and she threw herself into your arms, thanking you in a low voice... And shedding a few tears, too, well hidden in the hollow of your shoulder.

- She never thought it possible... But you have managed to make this very special day, for both of you, even more perfect and unforgettable than it already was.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #anime #dazai osamu #bsd headcanons #dazai x reader #ango x reader #yosano x reader #ranpo x reader #ranpo edogawa #yosano akiko #ango sakaguchi #fluff #mariage

32 notes · View notes